


Matchmaker

by alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe, Children, Homophobia, Lime, M/M, Original Character(s), POV Quatre, Romance, Yaoi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-05
Updated: 2013-06-05
Packaged: 2019-05-18 15:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,212
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14855381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist/pseuds/alittlepieceofgundamwing_archivist
Summary: by Honor A. De'Mandoren





	1. Of Women and their Tendencies to Meddle

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

_"Insanity -- a perfectly rational adjustment to an insane world."_  
-R. D. Lang  
  
+  
  
It was a hot spring day outside, but inside the office the a/c was blasting and making the air frigid. I was sorely tempted to put a sweater on, and if I had one handy, I would have done it.  
  
The whole day had just been ups and downs of stressed out employees, vendors on the phone line demanding ridiculous things, and my grandmother during lunch wanting to know intimate details about my love life... my non-existent love life. She knows that I don't have anyone in my life, but she loves to plague me anyway. It's her way of nagging.  
  
"Mr. Winner," Charlene poked her head into my office. "There's a call on line two, and you told me to remind you to leave in an hour to pick up Amee."  
  
The main reason why I hired Charlene was because she could remind me of those little details I tend to forget _without_ making me feel like a complete idiot. "Thanks, Charlene."  
  
Picking up the phone I cradled it between ear and shoulder as I started working on the tidying-up process so I could leave work a little early. "Winner speaking."  
  
<<Quatre,>> oh good lord, it's my grandmother <<what are you doing Sunday?>>  
  
Maybe if I 'accidentally' hang up, and run really fast, then she won't be able to rope me into whatever it is she's planning. Nope, it wouldn't work. She'd try my cell next. Darn it.  
  
She didn't bother to wait for a response, just kept going. <<I'm having a little informal dinner, and I need another male body. The Jones's are bringing their daughter Emily, you remember her, charming girl, and I need someone to complement her. Come at six, and wear that nice blue shirt I bought you.>>  
  
My grandmother's idea of an 'informal dinner' would shame a five-star restaurant. And that little comment on Emily Jones was not at all innocent. I was twenty-four, unattached, and as far as my grandmother could tell, quite content to stay that way. She associates 'happy' with 'married' and my single state was an issue of great worry for her. She doesn't know the whole truth of the matter, because I do have a latent survival gene in me somewhere, and I'm not about to tell her. Thankfully, I have a very good trump card. "Grandmother, normally I would go without any hesitation -- " lie! " -- but I do have a previous engagement."  
  
<<Who? And you had better not say Amee.>>  
  
"Yes, it is with Amee."  
  
<<Quatre, a grown man does not turn down a dinner invitation because of his little sister.>>  
  
"I've cancelled three of our dates at your behest, and I refuse to do it a fourth time. Amee is much more important to me than your Emily Jones. We have barely seen each other all week and I want to spend some time with her."  
  
<<Quatre, you can do that on Saturday.>>  
  
"The answer is no, grandmother. I'll talk to you later, alright?" I hung up before she could start guilt tripping me, blowing out a huge breath. This has got to end. She's called every week for three months straight with someone set up for me to meet, and I was getting really tired of it. So tired of it that I was perilously close to telling her why I wasn't interested in all of those girls, and that would be... a unique way of suiciding. They would never find my body after my grandmother was done with me.  
  
My eyes fell on the small frame on my desk in reflex, and I smiled a little. Amee is the cutest little girl. She just turned seven a month ago, but in the picture she was five, and hunting for Easter eggs. There's no doubt that we're siblings -- actually, because of the age difference, most people assume that she's my daughter. We both have our mother's pale blond hair, and light blue eyes. I favor my mother, but Amee looks like her younger twin.  
  
Six years... looking back, it hasn't seemed that long. I was almost seventeen when my mother told me she was pregnant. I'd been ecstatic at the idea of finally having a younger sibling. But the pregnancy was a hard one, and my mother died giving birth to Amee. Eight months later, my father had joined her, too grief stricken to keep living. At the ripe old age of eighteen, my father left me alone to manage a business, an insane grandmother, and raise a little girl. Amee had, by far, been the best part of my inheritance.  
  
The phone rang and I picked it up, eyes still on the picture. "Winner speaking."  
  
<<Mr. Winner? This is Ms. Thompson, at Cardinal Elementary.>> I jerked upright in my seat, alarm going through me. <<I'm sorry to say that Amee's had a slight accident.>>  
  
"How slight?" I demanded, already snatching up keys.  
  
<<A sprained wrist and some scrapes. I took her to the pediatric center next door.>>  
  
"I'll be there in five minutes."  
  
+  
  
Nothing of the drive there or the features of the pediatric hospital really registered. I stopped at the desk long enough to give my name, and the receptionist pointed me at the right door. I was inside in a heartbeat.  
  
Amee was sitting on a table, one wrist wrapped and a few bandaids on her hands and knees. She turned with a smile as I entered. "Hi!"  
  
"You're okay? Not seriously hurt? What happened?" I very carefully took hold of one hand, not wanting to brush against any scrapes.  
  
"Tommy Warsaw shoved me against the building," she said in disgust. "But its okay, I kicked him in the shins when I got up."  
  
Hell, if she already extracted revenge, then she was probably alright. I relaxed and started shaking my head. "That's my girl, alright. Are you hurt anywhere that I'm not seeing?"  
  
"Nope. Dr. Barton said I'll be okay in a few days."  
  
I turned to see who she was looking at.  
  
Have you ever laid eyes on something that you really, really wanted? Something that came without a visible price tag? Something that you couldn't lay immediate hands on, and had no idea if you would ever be able to?  
  
That's exactly how I felt at that moment.  
  
He was a good head taller than me, with startling green eyes, smooth auburn-tinted hair falling over the right side of his face, and a lean build. It took conscious effort on my part not to gape or start drooling. Manners kicked in and I offered a hand, "Quatre Winner."  
  
"Trowa Barton," he responded with a firm handshake. That smooth tenor perfectly matched his build. "And yes, she's fine. Her wrist is more strained than anything else. Put ice packs and heat, alternating every twenty minutes on it and it will be as good as new in three days."  
  
"Good." I flashed him a smile. Come on Quatre, don't stand there like an idiot and just stare. Although he was definitely worth staring at... "Do I owe you anything?"  
  
He shook his head, eyes twinkling. "Not a thing."  
  
I couldn't think of a thing to say to get a conversation going, and this wasn't the right moment or place to hit on him. I did the safe thing and turned back to Amee, helping her off the table. "I guess we better postpone violin lessons."  
  
She shook her head ruefully. "Yeah. I can't do anything with one hand."  
  
"You play the violin?" Dr. Barton looked a little impressed.  
  
"And piano," Amee told him proudly. "Do you play anything?"  
  
"Flute. Badly, I might add. Stay with it, Amee. One of my regrets in life is not keeping up with music."  
  
"Oh I'm going to," she assured him, grinning evilly. "I have to beat Quatre."  
  
A cinnamon eyebrow arched a little, and those stunning green eyes settled on me. "You play as well?"  
  
Don't stammer like a school girl... calm... "Yes. It's something of a competition in the family. Whoever plays the best inherits our mother's violin."  
  
I could see him process the last bit of that sentence. "Then you're brother and sister?"  
  
"Yup!" Amee cheerfully confirmed. She was used to the assumption that I was her father by this point, and usually just let it slide.  
  
"I did think you were too young to have been her father."  
  
I shrugged, all easy charm. "Most people assume that I'm older than I look. Amee and I are rather used to it now."  
  
<Dr. Barton, you are needed in room three.> A cool female voice announced over the PA system.  
  
He sighed. "Duty calls. I'll see you both later? Without any serious injury, I hope."  
  
"One can hope. Thank you."  
  
He waved us off in a casual salute and went to tend to his other patients. I led Amee out to the car and let her in, since her hands were a little torn up. As I settled into the driver's seat she gave me a smirk that no seven year old should be able to do. "You liked him."  
  
There is one person in the family that knows the truth. To this day I have no idea how Amee figured it out. She was six when she put it together, and then she cleverly trapped me into confirming it. She'd make a great lawyer -- no one would stand a chance against her. "Yes, I did. And no, you're not allowed to tell him that."  
  
"Meanie." She pouted, scrunching down in her seat. "You have to start going out with people sometime, Quatre."  
  
"Now you sound like grandma."  
  
"She does have a point," Amee defended. After a moment she added, "Even if she is setting you up with the wrong people."  
  
"Ha ha. Speaking of which, she has another dinner thing she's set up this weekend. She wants me to cancel our date -- "  
  
"Quuaatre!" Amee complained.  
  
" -- I didn't say I was doing it! Are you crazy? I'd much rather spend time with you than whatever poor girl my grandmother is setting me up with. Anyway, she was pretty insistent. I need you to lose my cellphone for me." It was a game that Amee and I played against my grandmother. Whenever grandma had a bee in her bonnet, and she wouldn't leave me alone, then Amee would 'lose' my cellphone until the storm had passed, and then it would be miraculously 'found' again.  
  
Amee is such a jewel.  
  
"Good. We'll have to stay out of the house this weekend."  
  
I nodded in agreement. My grandmother was not above ambushing me at home and forcefully dragging me somewhere. "You're out-growing your pants and shirts. I thought we would go shopping."  
  
"Yesss!" Amee, at the age of seven, was already a clothes horse. She has more clothes than I did in my collective lifetime, and everything coordinates to something. We won't even discuss the number of shoes she has.  
  
I probably spoil her rotten (okay, you can scratch the probably, I DO spoil her rotten) but she's just so fun to dress up. It's like having your own living doll, and she's absolutely gorgeous in whatever you put on her, which doesn't help my restraint. Besides, she bribes me with hugs.  
  
The issue of clothes, and where to shop, distracted her from the yummy doctor we had just seen and I was able to relax and just drive, assured that I didn't have to defend myself anymore on that topic.  
  
+  
  
Thursday afternoon, we both got out a little early from school and work so we could avoid our grandmother. She'd left twenty-seven messages for me at home and work since Tuesday. I have to give it to her... she is persistent. We were pretty sure that she would be lying in wait for us as soon as we got home, so we didn't go home.  
  
We went shopping.  
  
A large part of our energy was spent on Amee, which I don't mind. She always makes sure that I get at least _one_ outfit, however. I think it's partly because she doesn't want to be totally self-centered.  
  
The other part is she doesn't trust me to buy my clothes without her guidance.  
  
For dinner we strayed to the Oasis and bought some Chinese food. The food court in the mall was packed, mostly teenagers. That was expected at this time of day. It took a bit of maneuvering and hunting to find an empty table.  
  
Hunger killed any chance of a conversation between us. That was why I was so surprised when Amee abruptly sat up and said "Dr. Barton!"  
  
What? Here?! I turned to see where she was looking and groaned. Yup, there he was, a tray in hand. He obviously heard Amee because he turned right toward us.  
  
Dammit, the man _would_ have to show up when I have half an egg roll sticking out of my mouth.  
  
Amee waved him forward excitedly, nearly bouncing in her chair. Too late, it occurred to me that I should stop her... oh hell. I quickly swallowed the bite of egg roll and conjured of a relaxed smile for the too-beautiful doctor. "Hi. This is a coincidence. Care to join us?"  
  
"If I'm not intruding," he responded a touch hesitantly.  
  
"Not at all."  
  
Amee pulled her purse out of the chair next to her so he could sit down. I wasn't sure whether to kiss her or kill her for that maneuver. On the one hand, the seat arrangements meant I had a fantastic view of Trowa, but on the other, I wasn't sitting right next to him either. Urgh.  
  
He settled into the chair, stretching out comfortably and smiling at us. "So how are you feeling, Amee?"  
  
"I'm okay." She lifted her arm to show him that the wrap was gone, only a few darker patches of skin showing that the scabs were still healing. "See?"  
  
"Four hours of shopping without a twinge," I inserted dryly.  
  
Trowa's eyebrows lifted with amusement. "Four hours?"  
  
"We're hiding from grandma," Amee added in a furtive whisper that really wasn't that furtive. "She wants to set up Quatre on a blind date, and he doesn't want to go, but grandma won't take no for an answer, so we have to hide."  
  
The marvelous thing about seven year olds is that they will tell people things that you didn't particularly want known. Unfortunately, it was all true, so I couldn't refute it. I settled for a shrug and tried to divert the conversation to another direction. "And you? Are you just browsing for something or are you on a mission?"  
  
Trowa looked like he wanted the full story behind my grandmother, but he answered my question instead. "My last pair of decent black Dockers was stained today. I have to bite the bullet and buy some more clothes."  
  
"Work as a pediatrician is decimating your wardrobe?" I hazarded. Raising Amee had certainly had an effect on mine until she was about five.  
  
"Unfortunately."  
  
Amee clapped her hands together, eyes shining with excitement. "Why don't you come with us? We need to shop for Quatre next."  
  
"Amee... " I gave her a weary look. "I have enough clothes."  
  
She looked at me as if I had just uttered something blasphemous. "You have _three_ ties."  
  
"They coordinate with all my suits," I pointed out.  
  
"You have two pairs of dress shoes."  
  
"That coordinate with all my suits," I repeated patiently.  
  
"Polo shirts."  
  
"... " Okay, she had me there. My polo shirts, used only on 'casual Friday', were getting a little faded and threadbare.  
  
Trowa was smiling with open amusement. "Do you usually lose these arguments?"  
  
"I haven't won one yet," I answered in resignation. "I keep trying, though. Do you wish to join us? I should warn you that Amee does not shop quickly." I wanted to give him a graceful out if he needed it.  
  
"Actually... I wouldn't mind joining you. Shopping alone is boring."  
  
Amee beamed at him. That was usually her sentiment exactly.  
  
Somehow, don't ask me how because I still haven't figured it out, but somehow a seven year old girl took charge of two grown men and led them by their figurative ring in the nose into the shops of her choosing.  
  
Amee really does have good taste in clothes, which was our only saving grace. She asked for Trowa's sizes (I thought he was about to openly laugh at that, but he did answer) then started the process of choosing which things would work well on us.  
  
While she was going through a rack of pants, Trowa leaned in close and murmured, "Is she usually like this?"  
  
"Yes," I murmured back. "I'm grateful she has a good fashion sense, otherwise I would have a battle on my hands. Thanks for going along with this."  
  
He shrugged, an easy movement that made my mouth water and my eyes stray to his broad shoulders. "Honestly, I don't have a fashion sense. I usually buy whatever fits. It's more entertaining for me to let her pick things out."  
  
His humor at the situation let me relax and just enjoy the moment. It was rather funny to watch my sister pick out our clothes and have us try them on, modeling in front of her. She put Trowa into form-fitting black pants and a dark green shirt that had me glazed over. Amazing. He looks simply amazing.  
  
He turned so we could see at all angles, then looked at me. "Well? I think she picked out a winner."  
  
You do remember how to breathe, Quatre. Take in a deep breath, and let it out. Repeat as necessary. "Yeah, that looks very good." Makes me want to strip them off and pay attention to the body under it.  
  
"Here." Amee handed me a shirt and pair of pants. "Try these on."  
  
Guess it was my turn. I ducked inside the changing booth right next to Trowa's and slipped the outfit on. Pure black. I try to avoid black most of the time, just because of the associations people make with the color. I kind of like how it looked on me, though. Stepping out I did a quick turn with my arms a little away from my body. "Well?"  
  
Amee was nodding in approval. Trowa... his eyes were absolutely glued to me. I got caught in his _expression and slowed to a complete stand still, watching him watching me.  
  
A second later he snapped out of it and he smiled slightly. "You look like a fallen angel."  
  
He _is_ interested in me! Holy cow, I didn't think I stood a chance, but that husky compliment and heated stare were blatant. I gave him a slightly naughty grin. "Really? In that case, I have to get it."  
  
We paid out shortly after that. Amee was damn near gloating about something, and I didn't think it was the success of a shopping trip either. I was sorry to see it end. I wasn't sure how to maneuver Trowa into asking me out, or at least getting my phone number.  
  
Unfortunately, he had parked in a different direction than we had. There was an awkward moment between us, just standing there, unwilling to let each other go without doing _something_.  
  
Trowa rubbed the back of his neck and looked up sheepishly. "I hate to lose you again."  
  
Perfect opening! Yes!! "How about a phone number exchange? I've got mine here," I fumbled my wallet out and took out a business card which I handed over, "and the cell number at the bottom is the best way to reach me."  
  
Trowa glanced at it, did a double take, then really looked at it. "You're the CEO of Winner Inc?"  
  
"He doesn't look it," Amee agreed sagely.  
  
"Thanks, Am." I rolled my eyes expressively. Okay, so at 5'5" I'm not exactly physically imposing, so what?  
  
"No, you don't look it," Trowa told me with a spark of humor. "But that's a good thing. I don't have any of my cards with me -- I'll call you later, alright?"  
  
"Sure." I tried to mask my uncertainty behind that word. It was so easy to just 'lose' that card and not call, but I hoped, really hoped, that he wouldn't. I wanted to know Dr. Trowa Barton a lot better.


	2. Hot Dates

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Honor A. De'Mandoren

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

_Too much of a good thing can be wonderful._  
\- Mae West  
  
+  
  
A minor miracle happened. Trowa called the next day during my lunch hour and asked me out to dinner. After stammering out a yes (smooth I was not) and doing logistics, we must have talked for at least a half an hour about everything and absolutely nothing. When he finally was pulled away from the phone by a patient, I quietly made sure no one was in ear shot and did a happy dance around my desk.  
  
When I got home I informed Amee that I was going out for dinner in two hours and that she had to pick her poison: baby-sitter or grandma.  
  
She sensibly chose baby-sitter.  
  
I made the arrangements, took a quick shower, and climbed into boxers and a bathrobe before wandering out to my room. The precaution turned out to be a necessary one. Amee was in the middle of my bed, waiting for me expectantly.  
  
"This isn't a meeting kind of dinner is it?"  
  
Thank god Amee was a girl and not a boy. Little girls understood the concept of hot dates -- little boys didn't. That made things so much easier on me. "No. It's a date."  
  
She gave me this thoughtful scrutiny, and looked terrifyingly adult for a moment. "Are you going with Trowa?"  
  
"Er... yes."  
  
"Good." She was all little girl again, beaming at me in supposed innocence. "He likes you, I can tell."  
  
I was not above using my sister to gain information. "Really? How?"  
  
"Cause he asked me what kind of food you like, and which one was your favorite restaurant."  
  
"Ah." Well, at least he cared enough about this date to do a bit of work on it. It was a promising sign. Although I did wonder _when_ he got this information... on second thought, it might be wise to just leave it there.  
  
"And," she added with a romantic sigh, "he said you were stunning."  
  
I am? When?! "When did he say that?"  
  
"When you were in the changing room in the mall. He said he noticed when you were in the blue shirt."  
  
Clothes are very important to Amee. She has a better fashion sense than Vogue. I usually let her pick out my clothes for that reason. When had I worn a blue shirt... "That was Monday, wasn't it?"  
  
"Mm-hm. He looked like the prince on Cinderella when he was dancing with Cinderella, very happy and everything."  
  
This is really getting interesting. I have to get her to spy for me more often.  
  
"Do you think Trowa is stunning?"  
  
I am not at all fooled at this attempt of artlessness. I know her better than that after seven years of raising her. However, it is not to my disadvantage to answer the question, because I have a fairly good idea that whatever I say will make it back to Trowa, and that can't be a bad thing. "I think he's drop dead gorgeous, and it doesn't matter what he's wearing."  
  
"You're not wearing that, are you?"  
  
I looked down at the casual black slacks and the blue shirt in my hands. "Um, yeah?"  
  
"That's the wrong kind of blue for indoors," I was informed with authority. "You need a deeper blue. Actually, a red is good. Where's that red satin shirt you have?"  
  
I pointed toward the closet, and let her have free reign. She knows where my clothes are better than I do.  
  
When Amee finally deemed me 'perfect' it was five till six, and I expected Trowa at my doorway at any moment. I was all set to walk out and wait for him in the living room when Amee caught my arm. "Quatre! You can't go down now!"  
  
I gave myself a quick once over in the standing mirror. No, fly was zipped, nothing stuck in my teeth, hair combed... "Why not?"  
  
"You have to make an entrance!" she exclaimed in frustration.  
  
Uh... what is she talking about? "Huh?"  
  
"You are not supposed to be on time for a date," I was informed with a stern frown. "When he gets here, count _slowly_ to a hundred, _then_ come down."  
  
I recognized at least part of that sentence from an old Elizabeth Taylor movie. "Sweetheart, only women do that sort of thing. Men are supposed to be on time. If I'm not on time, he's going to think I'm some sort of dandy."  
  
She paused, head cocked in that international woman's gesture that meant she was thinking it through. "Really?"  
  
"Yup." Seeing she was still uncertain, I took the opportunity to escape while I still could. I barely made it down the stairs when the front door bell rang. And that would be my hot date, right on time. Grinning a little in anticipation (and fighting the butterflies in my stomach back into their cages) I opened the door. I meant to say hi and invite him in, but after I got a look at him my mouth mutinied and said "Hot damn."  
  
Trowa gave me a startled look and started chuckling. "I guess that means I pass muster."  
  
He looked _divine_. Black slacks that fit him like they were tailored for him, deep blue shirt that just accented eyes and skin, top two buttons undone. I wanted to drag him inside and thoroughly investigate just what those marvelous clothes were hiding.  
  
Trowa was giving me his own interested appraisal. "You look rather sexy yourself."  
  
I flushed, remembered that I was wearing a red shirt and that flushing would make me look like a lobster with blond hair, and quickly turned to hug Amee good night. "My cell is on if you need me. Wake up Abdul if you get hungry."  
  
Amee waved this advice away. "I know the drill. Go have fun."  
  
"Right." Pressing a last kiss against her forehead, I snatched up wallet and keys from the side table and strolled out the door. "So where are we going?"  
  
"It's a toss up," he told me as we climbed into the car. "Which would you rather do, action movie and dinner or dinner and an action movie?"  
  
"Hm. Decisions, decisions," I drawled. "I do like the idea of an action movie and dinner, but the idea of dinner and an action movie is just so appealing."  
  
I got a quiet chuckle for that as he eased into traffic.  
  
"So what's the movie?"  
  
"Terminator 6: The Broken Record." He must have caught the strange _expression on my face because he added, "It's supposed to be a spoof."  
  
"With that title, it better be a spoof. What do the critics say?"  
  
"They hate it."  
  
"Hm. It's probably a pretty funny movie, then. Let's see it."  
  
+  
  
The movie was horrible, but it was funny being horrible. Half the time I was torn between laughing and shaking my head in disbelief. We sat in the dark theater, half way between door and big screen. Trowa was a perfect gentleman the entire time. It was actually me that pushed things a little. I like physical contact, it gives me a better feel for people. About twenty minutes into the movie, I cautiously slid my hand into his. He glanced at me sharply, then slowly his lips tilted up in a smile and his hand tangled in my fingers.  
  
Those twined fingers shifted during the course of the movie, but they stayed in contact the entire way through, even while we were laughing. It just warmed me up and made things just a tad more magical.  
  
They stayed connected as we walked out of the movie, drawing a few looks from other people. I didn't care. And I liked it that Trowa didn't seem to care either.  
  
Eventually we had to separate to get into the car. I missed the contact, but didn't whine. It had been a long time since I'd been able to touch someone like that, but I'd survive without it. "Okay, I admit it, that was worth seeing."  
  
"Worth seeing twice?" Trowa grinned at me as he twisted in the seat to back out.  
  
"I think that's probably pushing it. Maybe ten years from now when you've forgotten most of it, you could risk seeing it again."  
  
"Can't argue with you there. Now, where shall we go for dinner? Tommy's or Chinese Garden?"  
  
"Chinese Garden," I said promptly. I love Chinese food!  
  
"I'm so glad you said that, I've been craving lemon chicken for three hours now."  
  
I laughed at his dramatic sigh. This is what I loved about Trowa -- he had a quick and dry wit that just made things funny and easy. Being in his company was a delight instead of a chore.  
  
We walked into the Chinese Garden and one of the waiters looked up. "Mr. Winner! Good evening, sir."  
  
I flushed slightly, but fought it viciously. "Good evening, Shan. Table for two, please."  
  
"Certainly sir."  
  
Trowa leaned in close to my ear and drawled, "You're sure well known 'round here."  
  
I cleared my throat, and felt myself losing against the blush. Darnit. "I have something of a confession to make."  
  
"Oh?"  
  
Ah well. The only way to deal with a blush was to smile through it. I grinned at him saucily. "I am _obsessed_ with Chinese food."  
  
There was a twinkle in those dark green eyes. At this range, I could see that he had a ring of pure gold circling the iris. "I guessed that, yes."  
  
Shan returned with menus and we settled into a table out of the way of people. Trowa ordered his lemon chicken, I went with a personal favorite of moo goo gai pan, and then we were left alone.  
  
Let's clarify something. The last time I was on a date, I was sixteen and a nervous wreck most of the time.  
  
Now I'm twenty-four... and I'm still not very good at this whole 'date' thing.  
  
Fortunately, Trowa was.  
  
"Alright, I'm dying of curiosity. Just how do you have custody of Amee?"  
  
Safe ground for a conversation. Yes! "Hm... I have to back up a little to answer that. When I was seventeen, my mother became pregnant with Amee. It was a miracle... the only other time she was pregnant was with me. We were all surprised but rather happy about it. Unfortunately, her body just couldn't handle it. My mother was never strong physically to begin with, and it just... was too much strain for her. She died giving birth to Amee. Eight months later, my father died as well from grief."  
  
His eyes shadowed into a darker green. "I'm sorry."  
  
I gave a one-shouldered shrug, focusing on my hands. It still hurt to not have my mother. I wasn't ever as close with my father. It was hard to miss him sometimes. "It's something that I've gotten over, mostly. Still, it was interesting how things worked out. I was eighteen by that point, and had just started college. I think everyone automatically assumed that my grandmother would take Amee, but I just couldn't let her. Amee was the last thing that I had of my family, and I wasn't about to let her get away from me. Besides, my grandmother is insane."  
  
He blinked. "Literally?"  
  
"Well, no one has managed to get her committed yet, but that's because she drives _them_ crazy before they can get the paperwork processed. She's bi-polar, you see, and refuses to take her medicine on a regular basis. She up and travels to different places at the drop of a hat. It meant a very strange life style, and I wasn't sure that I wanted Amee to be raised by her. So... I argued long and hard, and in the end, they gave her to me."  
  
Trowa sat back, eyes on me. I felt like I was his focus, that he wasn't interested in anything but me. It was a heady feeling. "Still, that had to be difficult for you."  
  
"Raising a baby while going to college... a lot of people do it. It was certainly a learning experience." Flashes of memories from those times darted through my mind, and I shook my head a little. "I won't claim it was easy. But it was worth it. And you? What's your history?"  
  
"Hm... nothing terribly exciting. My one claim to uniqueness is that I was born in a circus."  
  
"You're kidding!"  
  
"Nope. I was a clown, and a lion-tamer, and if they needed one, an acrobat."  
  
Strangely enough, I could see him in all three roles. "I now understand how you can be such a good pediatrician. You had prior training."  
  
He chuckled a little, eyes crinkling up at the corners. It's really sexy. "That's more accurate than you know. Anyway, I left the circus when I was seventeen and went to college. When I graduated, I just chose a town at random and started looking for a job. It wasn't hard, people are always looking for doctors."  
  
"Why didn't you stay?" I asked, truly curious. Running away to the circus used to be a dream of mine, when I was about four.  
  
"I just got tired of going from place to place, living in a trailer, seeing new faces every week. I wanted to put down roots and just _stay_."  
  
"Do you have any family?"  
  
"My older sister, Cathy. She's rather like your grandmother -- she drives me nuts. Only she doesn't have a medical excuse, she's just crazy."  
  
Dinner arrived and we dug in, the rest of the conversation more light and not delving into any painful topics.  
  
Awkwardness didn't return until we reached my doorstep. I wanted to invite him in. I wanted to lead him straight upstairs, strip off all bothersome clothing, and spend some quality time with him between the sheets. Two things stopped me. One, I wasn't sure if I was really ready for that, and two, Amee was undoubtedly still up (even though it was nearly midnight) and ready for a play-by-play of my hot date.  
  
Trowa must have sensed my hesitancy, because he just smiled and brushed a light kiss over my mouth. "'Night. And I hope that you want to do this again."  
  
I caught his head, lifted up, and kissed him full on the mouth. Huskily I whispered, "I really want to do this again."  
  
Something predatory flashed across his face, and he pressed back into me. Arms like steel bands went around my waist even as I caught his shoulders. My back was against brick, hard and cold while a hot mouth devoured mine. We kissed with hunger, and heat, and sound. I was about ready to just give up on oxygen as a lost cause when he lifted his head a little, breaking off contact.  
  
"You just made it a million times harder for me to get back in my car and go home."  
  
I was rather grateful at the moment that my door is so shadowed. Normally I'm cursing it because it's hard to see where the keyhole is and which key I need. Right now though, it's really convenient. Nobody can see the make-out session. I pressed my hips up into his, shivering a little at the friction and the sharp hiss that he gave. "Hmm... sorry. You're just too irresistible."  
  
"You don't sound sorry." The hands on my butt squeezed a little, which felt really nice.  
  
"That's cause I'm not."  
  
He kissed me again, just as hungrily as the first time, but more brief. "What are you doing Sunday?" he asked desperately.  
  
"Hiding from my grandmother," I answered promptly.  
  
"You can come hide at my apartment," he offered with a slightly hopeful look.  
  
I hesitated. I wanted to... god, I wanted to. But I couldn't leave Amee all day with just a baby-sitter, and I had promised to spend some time with her.  
  
He deflated a little. "It's okay."  
  
"I want to," I assured him earnestly. "But I can't leave Amee all day with a baby-sitter, especially with my grandmother on the warpath."  
  
He perked right back up. "Quatre, when I said 'you' I meant Amee too."  
  
My eyes bugged out so badly I could swear that they were going to fall out of my head. "... what?"  
  
"I'm a pediatrician, I like kids, remember?"  
  
Um. It took a few seconds for that to really penetrate. "Sorry, it's just reflex I guess. Most guys won't consider the little sister when planning get-togethers. I'll... I'll run it by Amee. She'll probably jump at the chance, she really likes you. Call you tomorrow?"  
  
"Yeah. Call me at work."  
  
"You work on Saturday?" It was the business man mentality, I rarely had to work a weekend.  
  
"Well, this weekend. I have to work Saturday every other week. Call me there, okay?"  
  
"Yeah." It took another five minutes of copping feels, kissing, and reluctant 'good nights' but Trowa finally tore himself away and went to the car, and I made myself let him go.  
  
I could not believe my luck. Something that hot, and that sweet, and that intelligent, was still single? What was wrong with the world? Were people blind?  
  
What am I saying?! It's great they're blind, it leaves him for me!  
  
Smiling like an absolute dork, I unlocked the door and went inside. I was not at all surprised to see Abdul out like a light on the couch. He was the father of five children, the oldest being five. I offered him baby-sitting opportunities just so he could catch up on his sleep. Amee really doesn't need a baby-sitter, she's got more common sense than most forty-year olds.  
  
Amee was in front of the TV in satin blue pajamas, propped up on a mound of pillows. She bounced up as I walked in. "So?"  
  
"It was great." That was such a lame thing to say. "Actually it was fantastic. _He's_ fantastic. I can't believe he's still single."  
  
That was only part of the information that she wanted. Grabbing my hand she started bouncing around impatiently. "And? Did he kiss you good night?"  
  
"Oh yes."  
  
"AND?!"  
  
"Not only does he look like prince charming, but he kisses like prince charming."  
  
She got this goofy, sappy grin on her face. "Awww... that's so romantic."  
  
"Romantic enough to change our plans and hang out at his place Sunday?" With this timing, I might get her to agree without thinking.  
  
She perked up, sappiness gone. "Really?"  
  
"Yup."  
  
"You didn't twist his arm?"  
  
"I didn't have to," I admitted honestly. "He wants to spend time with both of us."  
  
Amee did a female version of a war whoop, hugging me tightly around the waist. "Call him now, call him now!"  
  
"He won't be home yet."  
  
That didn't faze her in the slightest. She ran for the phone since I didn't and dialed in his number. I have to wonder why she has it memorized... no, on second thought, it would be better for me if I didn't know. She stamped her foot (ah ha, answering machine! I told her so!) then started speaking rapidly. "Trowa, its Amee. We'd love to come! I'm going to bring games that we can play, or some movies if you want. What time should we come over? Call me back!"  
  
I plucked the phone out of her hands before she could hang up. "Call back tomorrow when we're both awake. And tell us if we should bring munchies. I know we don't look it, but we're both bottomless pits."  
  
Amee latched onto my arm, then used my knee as a step ladder so she could put her mouth near the phone. "Night!"  
  
Has it ever occurred to children that adults are not an organic jungle gym? "Good night, Trowa."  
  
+  
  
Sunday couldn't arrive too early for either of us. As per instructions, Amee and I were on Trowa's doorstep at ten sharp. He lived in a really nice apartment complex, the sort that was perhaps two years old with a pool and rec room attached. When he opened the door to let us in, that impression was reinforced.  
  
Damn, did he look fine in those old faded jeans and black t-shirt. Our eyes met and there was a flash of heat between us before he looked down at Amee. "Hi. You look very pretty."  
  
"Thanks!" She gave him her special grin, the one that she knew dazzled every male thing within fifty miles. To be fair, she _did_ look very pretty. She was in a light blue sundress and her hair was falling in soft curls around her shoulders. The innocent look she was going for was somewhat spoiled when she frowned up at me. "He never tells me that I look pretty unless I ask."  
  
"Amee," I responded patiently, "you would look pretty in a toe sack."  
  
As expected, she beamed at me for the compliment.  
  
Trowa looked up at me. "She pays you to say things like that, doesn't she?"  
  
Seeing the indignant _expression on my sister's face, I played along. "Yup, five bucks a week."  
  
For those comments, we were snubbed with a dainty little nose stuck up in the air.  
  
Trowa caught the bag in my hand and waved us inside. "Take your shoes off, get comfortable. What is in here anyway?"  
  
"Games. I'll warn you right now, it is not safe to play Monopoly with either of us. We just thought we'd bring it along. Some people don't believe that assertion until we bankrupt them in the first ten rounds. Yahtzee is a better choice."  
  
Trowa set the games aside with a smile. "I think I'll believe you. That might be something we should do later, though. Shall we go swimming?"  
  
Amee completely forgot that she was miffed at us and bounced in excitement. "Yes! I need to change."  
  
"Bathroom is the first door on your left," Trowa informed her.  
  
As soon as the door shut behind her I wrapped both arms around his neck and spent a few very pleasurable minutes re-introducing our tongues. Trowa slipped both hands down to my ass and pulled me in hard against him, a rough rumble vibrating in his chest. "Hi," I murmured breathlessly.  
  
"Hi yourself. I'm assuming that it's okay to be a little physically demonstrative?"  
  
"Are you kidding? Amee thinks that it's marvelous and is taking all the credit for you asking me out."  
  
"She did have a hand in it," he admitted easily. His hands were roving, lightly squeezing as he talked. Just because I couldn't stay still while he was doing all of this marvelous touching, I started tracing the contours of hard muscle through the thin shirt.  
  
"Hm. I guess she did. How do you stay so built?"  
  
"Swimming, and some gymnastics."  
  
I eyed the shirt, thinking rapidly. How to get him out of that shirt without sounding either insane or dangerously horny... Aha! "We should probably change into trunks, too."  
  
Trowa gave me this little grin. "If you want the shirt off, just say so."  
  
Am I really that transparent?  
  
Don't answer that.  
  
The bathroom door opened. It gave me enough warning to unwrap myself a little from Trowa. Physically demonstrative is one thing, being all tangled up with him in a wanna-be-make-out session is another. Amee came into view, wearing her favorite yellow swimsuit and the yellow wrap that went with it. She eyed us suspiciously and demanded, "Were you two kissing?"  
  
How is it that females always want the dirty details? "Yes."  
  
She stamped her foot, looking peeved. "Quatre! I want to see."  
  
Trowa looked like he was biting his lip to keep from laughing. "Why?"  
  
Apparently she decided that appealing to Trowa might get her somewhere, because she gave him her patented no-one-loves-me pout. "Quatre said you're really good at kissing and I wanted to see what he was talking about."  
  
Trowa was outright grinning at me. "Is that so?"  
  
Damn the man for finding this amusing. I gave him a dirty look before going the safer route and facing Amee. "Amee, you can't tell much from just looking. Why don't you just take my word for it?"  
  
The pout went up a level.  
  
"He does have a point, Amee," Trowa acknowledged. There was a very distinct twinkle in those green eyes that spoke of mischief. "Tell you what, I'll show you." In two strides he reached over and picked her up by the waist, giving her a light kiss on her mouth.  
  
Amee went bright red... then melted. "You _do_ kiss like Prince Charming," she sighed.  
  
Trowa burst out laughing, nearly bent in half, shaking all over. I rescued Amee from his grip before he could drop her. While Trowa was recovering I told my sister, "That is your only kiss, understand?"  
  
"That's selfish," she accused.  
  
"Yup." I didn't want her to get addicted to Trowa's kisses. I knew first hand just how addictive they were, I knew what I was talking about. "Be good while we change."  
  
I got an eye roll for that statement, which I chose to ignore. It took a few minutes to change into trunks, then all three of us went down to the pool. It was an indoor heated affair. Amee stuck her hair up in a swimming cap, and went into the shallow end. Trowa and I tried to out-do each other with fancy dives for a bit, then we slowly snuck up on Amee in the shallow end and spent a pleasurable few minutes tossing her back and forth while she screamed and giggled.  
  
Of course, we had to stop eventually just so she'd breathe, and we let her go back to the shallow end. I was about to suggest a game of Marco Polo when I saw that Trowa was staring hard at someone near the door. We weren't the only people in the pool area by any means, but there were only a handful of people so it was easy to figure out who he was staring at.  
  
There was a large man, going slowly to fat standing near the door. He was hairy and darkly colored. I sidled closer to Trowa and asked softly, "What is it?"  
  
"Amee," Trowa called quietly. He caught her by the waist as she drew near and pulled her in close. "Do you see that big man near the door?"  
  
She turned and looked. "The one that looks like a bear?"  
  
"Yes. I don't want you to go anywhere near him. In fact, just stick close to us."  
  
I've given Amee those kinds of warnings before, and she knew what Trowa really meant. She twisted to look up at him. "Is he a bad man?"  
  
"I can't prove it," Trowa admitted. "But I have my suspicions."  
  
"Perhaps we should just go back up and watch a movie," I suggested. The man's appearance had put a damper on the buoyant mood we had been enjoying. It was perhaps better to just cut things short rather than to try and play with a pall in the air.  
  
"Yeah," Amee agreed with a nervous glance at the door.  
  
So we got out and went back upstairs to Trowa's apartment. Once we were back in normal clothes, Trowa put in Ice Age. Amee was immediately hooked. That was her favorite movie, second to none. She curled up on some huge monstrosity of a bean bag Trowa dragged out of a corner and sat right in front of the TV. Her absorption in the TV gave us adults some semi-privacy for a little cuddling in the huge recliner behind her. I snuggled into Trowa's lap and let my head lay against his shoulder. What is it about being wrapped up in someone's arms, lying against their body, that makes you feel so warm and safe?  
  
I admit, I didn't pay a lot of attention to the movie. I took full advantage of my position and twisted so I could press gentle kisses against a warm mouth, and trace high cheekbones and soft skin with my fingertips. Trowa's eyes just glowed in soft delight at the attention, and he nuzzled back.  
  
We were lost in our own world of intimacy and touch. I know that for a fact because the next thing that I became aware of besides Trowa was Amee giggling and watching us from the bean bag.  
  
Brat.  
  
"It's so romantic," she sighed with an impish little grin on her face. "Can I take a picture?"  
  
"No," I told her firmly.  
  
"Meanie."  
  
"How about something to snack on?" Trowa suggested.  
  
He's good at derailing arguments. "And maybe a game?"  
  
I lost miserably in Yahtzee, I usually do, but this time I blame it entirely on Trowa. His sex appeal is just too distracting for me to focus well. We moved onto other games, and another movie that meant more snuggle time. At seven thirty, though, it was time for us to go home.  
  
While Amee put our things in the car I snatched a too-brief kiss from Trowa. "What are you doing Wednesday?" I whispered.  
  
"My mind is a blank. Whatever it is, I'll cancel it."  
  
"Dinner at my place?"  
  
He kissed me softly. "I can make it there at 6:30 if you ignore the doctor clothes."  
  
"You look sexy in doctor clothes," I told him in all seriousness. "I'll see you at 6:30. And don't expect anything fancy, I'm not a gourmet cook."  
  
"Right."  
  
"Quatre, I'm going home without you!" Amee called.  
  
"You can't!" I called back. "I have the keys!"  
  
"I can always flag down a taxi!"  
  
"And who's going to pay for it?"  
  
"You, naturally! I have your wallet."  
  
Are seven year olds supposed to win every argument?


	3. Sources of Information

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Honor A. De'Mandoren

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

_My sources are unreliable, but their information is fascinating._  
  
\+   
  
Monday morning, and the cycle with my grandmother started all over again. It started with a guilt trip for not going to the informal dinner and leaving poor what's-her-name without a dinner partner. Then it went to the infamous reasoning of 'I'm not getting any younger, and its past time that you settled down and really start to find your own love'. That's when things took an interesting turn.  
  
<<Quatre, I heard a rumor that you were with someone at the Chinese Garden.>>  
  
How does she know things like this? "When?"   
  
<<Don't play dumb with me, it was on Friday. You were with a _man_ Quatre, and you were flirting with him. >>  
  
Yeah, I was. It had taken willpower on my part not to kiss him too. "I was with a man, yes -- "  
  
<<QUATRE RABERBA WINNER! YOU HAD BETTER NOT MEAN THAT!>>  
  
I winced at the volume and put an inch between me and the phone. "Grandmother, I did _not_ say that I was out on a date." And I wasn't about to own up to that either. I wanted to live another fifty years. "You asked if I was out to dinner with a man, and I was."  
  
<<What's his name?>>  
  
Whatever her source was, they weren't much on details. "I won't tell you that."  
  
<<Why not?>>  
  
"Because you'll harass him, and I like him too much to have you on his trail."  
  
<<Quatre, that is a mean thing to say.>>  
  
"Mean, but true. In case it has escaped your attention, I have few male friends. I need a night out with one of the guys just like every other male on this planet." Of course, that wasn't all there was to it, but I wasn't about to allude to anything more. Color me coward if you would, but when she finds out that I'm gay, I'll never, and I mean NEVER hear the end of it. I want to at least be involved and committed to a serious relationship before she knows. At least that way the grief she'll give me will be worth it.   
  
Maybe with Trowa... that will be soon. God, I hoped so. I couldn't imagine being with someone better than Trowa. Sunday had been an incredible day.   
  
<<Well, if that's all there was to it that's fine. At least you were out with someone besides Amee. Now, there is a little informal gathering on Thursday. I want you there.>>  
  
I automatically turned my palm pilot on and checked the day. Not a thing scheduled. "Sorry, grandmother, but that day is packed solid."  
  
<<Its always packed solid when I want you at something,>> she complained.   
  
Yes, well, that's because you're trying to set me up. "Sorry, grandmother. I can't talk more, I have another call coming in. Bye." I barely set the phone back on its cradle when it started ringing. Hm. I hadn't meant for that excuse to be prophetic. "Winner speaking."  
  
<<Hey.>>  
  
"Trowa!" I sank back into my seat with a smile. "You have no idea how good it is to hear your voice. So how are you?"  
  
<<Hungry and bored. I was hoping to talk you into meeting me at Panda Palace.>>  
  
"I'm always up for Chinese food and sexy men," I returned with a laugh. "The one on Lexington Blvd right?"  
  
<<The very one. Twenty minutes?>>  
  
"I'll meet you there."   
  
+  
  
My conversation with my grandmother was still in my mind when I met Trowa at the Panda Palace. I think he sensed something was up, but he waited until we were seated in the back of the restaurant with our food before bringing it up.   
  
"Something wrong?"  
  
"A few things," I sighed. "In order, my grandmother wants me married, doesn't know that I'm gay, and will have kittens when she does find out. Oh, and she somehow found out that we went out on a date Friday."  
  
Trowa just... shut down. His face went blank. "And?"  
  
"I managed to dance around it." What did that facial _expression signify? Did he really think I would drop him? "I can't keep doing that, I know. I just didn't want to mess with it now. I want... "  
  
Trowa took a long sip from his cup before he spoke. "And what will you say when she does figure out that you're seeing someone?"  
  
"The truth. There's no point in denying it at that point." He only relaxed a fraction. Just what was going on here? "Trowa?"  
  
His eyes evaded mine. "I don't want to cause problems for you."  
  
"You're not the problem," I assured him softly. Mentally I was kicking myself. Of course he would see it like that! What had I been thinking? "I hope... I hope you're the solution."  
  
The wariness dropped a notch and his eye flew back up to mine. "What do you mean?"  
  
"I keep putting off acknowledging the truth for a reason." Be careful how you put this... "I wanted to be involved with someone, really committed to them, before I told anyone. At least that way I would have the support I need to put up with all the other crap I'm likely to get, and have the benefit of having a partner to balance out the hassle."  
  
"... you want me to be all that?"  
  
I really hope I'm not making a mistake with this. I really couldn't tell what he was feeling. "Yeah. I do. I'm not demanding it from you right this minute -- " the sentence dwindled when he stopped me with a gentle brush of fingertips against my mouth.   
  
"Shh. I don't... I want to be all that. The only thing that I don't want to do is walk away from you."  
  
I sagged in relief. Oh god, I was so glad to hear him say that! "Good."  
  
He gave me this little sexy grin, with a touch of shyness to it. After that heavy exchange of words, we just ate lunch and watched each other. Of course, watching Trowa is a turn-on all by itself. Before I realized it I was having a delightful fantasy about dragging him somewhere private and investigating what color of underwear he was wearing. I'm sitting in Panda Palace, the remains of Chinese food in front of me, and a hard on that was becoming very uncomfortable. This is not good.   
  
My face must have been doing something because he looked at me in concern. "Quatre?"  
  
"I don't suppose," I murmured in a low tone, "that you have an office with a lock on the door?"  
  
"... no."  
  
"Damn."  
  
His voice went husky. "But I do have a suburban with a seat that folds down. It's parked in the back of the parking lot."  
  
It was suddenly imperative that we get out as quickly as possible. I snatched up my tray, Trowa right behind me. I think we broke walking records as we moved with all speed toward his suburban. He unlocked it quickly, climbing in first and doing something that made the middle seat fold down flat. I was inside as soon as he gave me enough room to maneuver, shutting the door behind me. Trowa yanked me down onto the bench, kissing me feverishly. I collapsed over him, kissing him back, yanking at his shirt until I could put my hands on some of that smooth flesh.   
  
I could feel him quiver a little under me. One thigh worked up until it was pressed directly into my crotch. I rubbed against it, torturing myself with the friction.   
  
Hands fell away from my hair and dropped down to my pants, yanking at the belt until it was out of the way. I helped him wrestle pants and boxers down to my knees. When he wrapped a hand around me, pumping slowly, my mouth broke from his to gasp "Yessss."  
  
"You feel so good in my hand," Trowa rasped.   
  
It was suddenly vital that I touch him too -- give him the same pleasure I was receiving. I yanked at his clothes until I could draw him free of the boxers. He groaned and gave a little thrust as I wrapped a hand around him. He went from semi-erect to hard in my hand, and somehow it penetrated through my passion-fogged mind that my boyfriend was extremely well hung.   
  
Oh goody!  
  
As much as it killed me, I pulled Trowa's hand away.   
  
"Babe, what are you doing?" he protested, sitting up a little.  
  
"I want to taste you," I defended as I bent down and took him into my mouth. I notice he stopped protesting as soon as my mouth touched him. He was starting to leak precum, the taste of it salty and bitter on my tongue. I've never given someone a blow job in my life, and was judging what was good and what wasn't entirely on the sounds pouring out of his mouth, and the way he moved under me.   
  
He liked it when I stroked the perineum right behind his balls, hissing sharply between his teeth. I kept a finger there, idly circling, sometimes venturing upwards to stroke his balls. He tasted so damn fine, I was even getting used to the taste of precum.   
  
"Quatre, gotta stop -- "  
  
Was he kidding? I was enjoying this way too much to stop now. Driving Trowa crazy with pleasure was fun.   
  
"Babe, please, I'm going to come any second -- "  
  
That's the whole point of the blowjob, right? Hell, if that was his excuse, I wasn't stopping. Maybe he was worried about whether I would swallow or not. I upped the pressure on him, sucking hard.   
  
Trowa shook like a leaf in a hurricane gale, thrusting up sharply, clenching his fingers around my shoulders. I barely kept from gagging, a thin trail of seed spilling down my chin. It was definitely... a different taste. I think I liked it, though. I definitely liked the sensation of having him hard and coming in my mouth. Slowly I let him slip out, grinning like the infamous Cheshire Cat.   
  
It took a few seconds before he was breathing normally again. He opened stormy green eyes and tugged me to him. "My turn."  
  
Take the pleasure of giving someone a hot blow job. Multiply times ten. That's what it felt like when Trowa deep throated me in one smooth motion. Fire seared right through me, destroying rational brain cells as it went. I hunched over him, snaring my fingers in his hair and gasping with pleasure. His mouth was so hot, and wet, and his tongue were doing all these interesting things I never imagined a tongue could do. It was all I could do to ride out my climax as it ripped through me.   
  
When I recovered (by my best estimation it was roughly five hours or so later) I was laying in Trowa's arms sideways on the bench, clothes done up again. "You are too good at that," I told him seriously.  
  
"I can say the same about you." He shifted me closer to him, smiling like a gambler with the winning hand.   
  
"Have I mentioned how glad I am that you have tinted windows?"  
  
"No. I'm glad that Duo talked me into them, though." He nibbled at my bottom lip. "Can we just call in sick the rest of the day?"  
  
My cellphone chose that moment to ring. Groaning, I dug it out of my pocket. "Hello?"  
  
<<This is Charlene. Sorry to interrupt you, Mr. Winner, but there is something of a situation here.>>  
  
"Right," I sighed. "I'll be there in ten minutes." Clicking the phone shut I shrugged at Trowa. "Sorry."  
  
"It's okay," he assured me but I could see the disappointment in his eyes.   
  
"Maybe we can do this again tomorrow?"   
  
The light came back on in his eyes. "Chinese again?"  
  
"How about hamburgers? It's faster that way." I winked at him. "We can find a nice quiet spot and eat in the car."  
  
"I do like how your mind thinks."  
  
+  
  
My grandmother's sources do not extend to the local Panda Palace, so we were able to have a fantastic make-out session in the car Tuesday during lunch without any serious conversation necessary. I was falling for Trowa, hard and fast, and I knew by looking at him that he felt the same way about me. As terrifying as it was, I was just as enthralled with the idea of loving someone, and being loved in return. It wasn't something that I brought up, though. We'd known each other a little over a week, and I wanted more time with him before I took a chance with my heart.   
  
Wednesday came and Trowa showed up at my townhouse for dinner. I went for something that even I can't mess up -- roast, potatoes and carrots done by crockpot. Easiest recipe in the book and it tastes fantastic.   
  
Trowa put up a good front through dinner, but I could see something was up. There was a tightness around his eyes that I didn't like. As soon as dinner was over I sent Amee to her room with homework and dragged him into the living room. "What's wrong?"  
  
He just seemed to deflate, looking weary and older than he should. "I'm sorry, I'm trying not to bring this with me, it's just -- "  
  
"You're only human, Trowa," I assured him softly. "C'mere." Stretching out on the couch, I brought him down with me. He went without protest, laying half on me so that his back was against the couch and his head was on my shoulder. He let out a huge sigh and just went boneless in my arms.   
  
"You have no idea how good this feels," he murmured against my neck. "I needed this."  
  
"All you have to do is ask," I assured him softly. Hoping to relax him even further, I ran a hand up and down his back in a soothing rhythm. "Do you want to talk about it?"  
  
There wasn't an answer for a few seconds, then almost haltingly he started to speak. "There's this little boy... maybe five years old. His mother brought him in because she thought he had the flu. The symptoms were close, but he had a tendency to black out sometimes. That didn't fit with flu, and I had a few tests done. Turns out he has a brain tumor."  
  
That poor little boy. "How dangerous is it?"  
  
"He'll live," Trowa assured me in an exhausted voice. "We caught it early enough. But it's such an ordeal to go through at his age. He's only five. His mother broke down into complete hysterics when I told her, and he was upset because she was upset. I had to explain to him what was going on... god, Quatre, it tore me apart to have to tell him everything and he just looked at me with so much _trust_ in his eyes and asked if he'd be okay. Dr. Morelli said that I need to learn how to deal with this, just let it go, but... "  
  
"You wouldn't be human anymore if something like this didn't bother you," I assured him gently. "You became a pediatrician because you care about children. I'd be more worried if this _didn't_ bother you."  
  
"Thanks. I needed to hear that."   
  
I pressed a soft kiss against his forehead. "You want to stay here tonight?"  
  
"I really wish I could, but I need to be in the office early tomorrow and I don't have a spare change of clothes here. Just let me lay here a bit longer."  
  
"I'm not kicking you out," I parried dryly. "I like you all cuddled up with me."   
  
Ten minutes later, he was fast asleep, warm breath ghosting across my skin. I didn't have the heart to wake him, just carefully picked him up and carried him up to my room. I tucked him into bed, and set my alarm for six. If that was later than he expected to be in, tough. I wasn't letting him go home in this state. I curled in around him, feeling a little giddy and wicked about having a handsome man in my bed.   
  
Somewhere around an hour later the Sandman came by and clobbered me over the head, sending me straight into erotic dreams.


	4. Other People

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Honor A. De'Mandoren

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

_Reality is the leading cause of stress among those in touch with it._  
\- Lily Tomlin  
  
\+   
  
I woke up to a degree when the alarm went off. Trowa gave me a soft kiss and a whispered thank you before he disappeared. I didn't even consider wondering about that until an hour later, when I truly woke up. I was prepared to be all excited about having him in my bed when I realized I was in pajamas.   
  
Rats.   
  
That meant I hadn't gotten any.   
  
Hmph. Getting out of bed, I staggered through the morning routine of shower, hot tea, toast for breakfast, and getting dressed for the day. Amee, as usual, was ready before me, but then she has an unfair advantage. She's a morning person. I was just grateful that Trowa had been up and gone before she got up -- otherwise I would have had a ton of questions to answer.   
  
By eight, Amee was at school and I was in my office, ostensibly doing paperwork while part of my mind was plotting a way to drop by and check on Trowa. Maybe get him into the back of his suburban again for another hot make-out session.   
  
*knock, knock*  
  
"Come in!" I called, trying to look busy and professional.  
  
"Mr. Winner, I think you should see this."   
  
Whenever Charlene says that, I know I'm in trouble. Cautiously I accepted the newspaper she was offering me and flipped it open to the front page.   
  
I simply could not believe what I was seeing.   
  
Taking up a good half of the page was a picture of me on the couch, Trowa half-draped over me. I recognized it instantly -- it was a snap shot of last night. How the hell had this been taken?!   
  
"Charlene, get Heero up here. Now."  
  
"Yes sir." She scurried out of the office, being wise enough to get out of the blasting radius before my temper blew.   
  
Shit! If my relationship with Trowa had hit the tabloids, then it was a matter of time before my grandmother was aware of this. She usually gets out of bed at 8:30, which meant I had about twenty minutes to get ahold of Trowa and warn him about what was going on. Snatching up the phone I dialed in his cell.   
  
<<This is Dr. Barton. Leave a message.>>  
  
Dammit, this was not the time for voicemail! "Trowa, its Quatre. We have something of a problem."  
  
Someone knocked on the door, then Heero popped his head in. I waved him forward, still speaking.   
  
"Someone has a picture of us plastered in the tabloids. My grandmother is going to descend on us like an avenging angel. Call me back." Hanging up the phone with a little more force than necessary I looked up at my head of security. "How long would it take you to put a security system into my townhouse?"  
  
Heero arched an eyebrow. "Not long. Two days to get it tweaked to perfection. Dare I ask what's made you change your mind?"  
  
"Some damn reporter is taking pictures through my windows," I bit off. "Public exposure is one thing, invading my privacy at home is another. I want top of the line."  
  
Heero was damn near gloating. He had wanted to install a system in my house for four years, but I hadn't wanted to deal with it. He's been with me for five years running building security so I knew how good he was. I could trust him to do the job. "I'll get right on it."  
  
"Thank you. Have Charlene give you one of the credit cards, then send her into me."   
  
"Certainly. I hope he's worth it."  
  
I looked up sharply, then exhaled a little. Heero was more than an employee -- he was something like a friend as well. "He is. Dare I ask how you knew?"  
  
"Charlene warned me," he admitted easily. "What are you going to tell your grandmother?"  
  
"The truth."  
  
"Should I have paramedics standing by?"  
  
I smiled bleakly at his black humor. "That might not be a bad idea."   
  
"And the newspaper? What will you do about them?"  
  
My face stretched into a feral grin.   
  
+  
  
After calling Trowa ten times in fifteen minutes, I gave up and just drove to the clinic. The receptionist looked up as I came in, did a double take, took a covert look at the newspaper next to her, then pinned a professional smile to her face. "Are you here to see Dr. Barton?"  
  
Behind my polite smile my teeth were clenched. "Yes, please."  
  
"One moment."   
  
I waited patiently while Trowa was being paged, glancing around the waiting room. I saw at least two copies of that damn paper, and quite a few mothers were looking at it discreetly, and me not so discreetly. I have no doubt that steam was coming out of my ears.   
  
"Quatre?"   
  
Spinning back around, I grabbed his arm and stepped in close. "We need to talk. Privately. NOW."  
  
"Um." He looked a little bewildered. "Okay. This way."   
  
I snatched up the receptionist's paper as he towed me down the hall and into an empty room, closing the door behind us. "What is this about?"  
  
A picture was worth a thousand words. I flipped open the paper and handed it to him.   
  
His eyes went wide... then he flushed... then he looked ready to kill. "How the hell did they get a picture of us?"  
  
"I have no idea, but it won't happen again. I'm stopping them today."  
  
"I didn't even realize you were in the public eye," he muttered.   
  
"I'm not usually." It took a lot of willpower to sound calm. After all, I wasn't mad at Trowa. "Every three months or so they suddenly remember that I exist again. Honestly, I hadn't expected anything like this." Taking a deep breath I went out on a limb. "Precisely ten minutes ago, if my grandmother is on schedule, she woke up and went down to breakfast. I have no doubt that she is looking at a copy of that paper in absolute shock as we speak. When she calls... I want to be able to tell her about you. About us."  
  
Trowa finally let the paper fall to his side, and lifted a hand to cradle my cheek. "You're worried about me?"  
  
"I don't want to push you into anything -- " I assured him desperately " -- and if you're not comfortable with that, I understand."  
  
He hushed me with a soft kiss. "I knew what I was getting into, remember? The timetable just got pushed up a bit. Tell her. I don't mind."   
  
What did I do to get this wonderful man? I wrapped both arms around him and just soaked him in, his warmth, his scent, the feel of him. "You're too good to be true."  
  
He snorted, but hugged me back hard.   
  
After a long, reluctant moment, I pulled back a little. "I need to let you go back to work. Don't worry about this, I'll handle it, okay?"  
  
"Tabloids are outside of my experience," Trowa answered dryly. "I trust you to deal with them. What about your grandmother?"  
  
"Um... there's a slim possibility that she'll calm down enough later today to want to meet you. I'll let you know what happens."  
  
"Okay."  
  
After a firm kiss I made myself turn away and walk out of the clinic. I was still boiling mad, but I was more in control now. Kissing Trowa puts a lot of things in perspective, I've discovered. My cell rang as I climbed into the car. I flipped it open. "Hello?"  
  
<<Quatre. We need to talk.>>   
  
I winced at the cold steel in her voice. "I thought as much. I'll be over in a half an hour or so."  
  
<<Now.>>  
  
"It will take me fifteen minutes to get there," I pointed out neutrally.   
  
<<Fine>>  
  
*click!*  
  
Oh boy. This ought to be interesting. As I started the engine I called Charlene. "Charlene? Get hold of Zechs for me. I want him to buy Exclusive. Yes, the whole business. This is the _last_ time that my picture is plastered across the nation."   
  
One thing down. Now to things that I couldn't handle.   
  
+  
  
I was shown directly to the formal sitting room when I entered my grandmother's house. Vivian Winner was not only awake and dressed, but every hair was in place and she was wearing full make-up. This from a woman that usually doesn't function until ten thirty. Not a good sign. I didn't offer a greeting. In her mood, she might take my head off.   
  
She tossed the newspaper on the coffee table, where it skidded a few inches before stopping. "That will take some very tall explaining."  
  
Show-time. I looked back at her calmly. "There is no explaining. He's my lover."  
  
A tic started at the corner of her mouth. "Lover." After a moment she drew in a deep breath. "His name?"  
  
"Dr. Trowa Barton."  
  
"A doctor. Well, at least you have _some_ taste. Am I to believe that you are bi, then?"  
  
"Gay," I corrected gently.   
  
"I see." Her eyes were icy. "And how long have you known?"  
  
"Ten years."  
  
She looked like she had just been hit with a bus load of surprise. " _Ten years?!_ And you didn't say a word to me?!"  
  
"You didn't want to hear it. I knew precisely how you would react when you found out -- and I didn't want to deal with it. I didn't plan on telling you until I found someone that I loved."  
  
"And did you consider Amee while you were doing all of this planning and scheming?"  
  
Hot anger rushed through me like a dull roar, but I fought it back. I needed all my wits about me. "Don't you dare bring her into this. Yes, I considered Amee. I always consider Amee. She likes Trowa -- he's good with her."   
  
"It doesn't matter if he is or not. She won't be living with you any longer."  
  
Screw being reasonable. She wasn't taking my sister away from me. "Oh no you don't, madam. _I_ am the CEO of Winner Inc. You have no power over it, or the family fortune. If you dare to pull me into court, fighting over her, then I will pull every ounce of power that is at my disposal."   
  
She didn't like it, but she knew I was right.   
  
"Leave Amee out of this," I reiterated quietly. "It's me you're angry with."  
  
"Yes, I am angry with you! It's wrong to... to involve yourself with another man like this. Who taught you such a thing was acceptable?"  
  
"No one. But you can't change the way I feel or think. It would be like me trying to teach you to like other women. I've never felt that kind of attraction to the feminine gender, and I never will. Even if I hadn't met Trowa, that would be true."  
  
She took in a deep breath, no doubt to help her reign in her temper. "I want you to drop him. There's a ton of eligible young women out there. You will choose one, court her, then propose. An engagement to a woman of good standing will erase your indiscretion."  
  
"You have two choices," I growled. "You can accept me the way I am, and the fact that I love Trowa and will not be separated from him, or you can remove yourself completely from my life. It's up to you, grandmother. But either way, I will have Trowa. And Amee." Without waiting for a response, I turned on my heel and walked out.   
  
Arguing with her wouldn't do an ounce of good. It was time to go back to things that I could handle. And one of those things would be Amee.   
  
I went directly to her school and checked her out early. She knew immediately that something was up, and was smart enough to stay quiet until we were in the car. Timidly she ventured, "Is something wrong?"  
  
I must look really scary right now if _Amee_ is intimated. "Sorry, sweetheart. I'm not angry with you, alright?"  
  
"... okay. But you are angry."  
  
"Oh yes. A reporter managed to get a picture of me and Trowa together and it's now plastered on the front page."  
  
Amee winced. "Were you two kissing?"  
  
"No. Cuddling."  
  
She mulled that over for a minute. "That's still not good."  
  
"No, it's not. I just had it out with grandma."  
  
Amee quickly ran her eyes over me, no doubt looking for wounds. "How did she take it?"  
  
"She didn't 'take it' at all. She told me to drop Trowa, and then get engaged to some suitable woman."  
  
Amee huffed indignantly. "That's not right!"  
  
"No, it's not. And I'm not going to do it. Amee... you should know two things. I told her that she could accept me and Trowa or leave me alone entirely. She just might cut us off completely."  
  
Amee shook her head. "I don't care about that, grandma drives me crazy. What's the other thing?"  
  
"She wants to take you away from me. I think she's afraid that I might pervert your way of thinking."  
  
Something flashed through her eyes. "Can she do that?"  
  
"No. She doesn't have the right, she gave me legal guardianship over you when you were eight months old. She'd have to go to court to do it, and if it comes to a battle in court I would win hands down and running, and she knows it. You're not going anywhere. But she might try and talk you into it."  
  
"I want to stay with you."   
  
"Just a warning," I reassured her. "Right now, I have Heero installing a security system in the house. You know that house better than anyone else, and you've got time right now. I want to drop you off there and learn how the system works, okay? You can teach me later."  
  
"Okay. Are you sure Heero won't mind?"  
  
Amee doesn't really know Heero that well, although they have met a few times over the years. She confessed to me at one point that he was better looking than the prince on Sleeping Beauty. I rather agreed with her. "No, he won't mind. Ask intelligent questions and follow him around. He'll eat up the attention." I knew for a fact that Heero had a weak spot for little girls, and Amee could charm a snake from its basket when she puts her mind to it.   
  
She didn't look entirely comfortable with the idea, but she didn't protest. I dropped her by the house, made sure that Heero knew she was his responsibility (something he wasn't entirely sure how to take, judging from the look on his face) then went straight back to my office.   
  
Zechs was waiting for me, casually arrayed in my chair and looking immaculate as usual. He grinned at me as I came in. "Hey boss."  
  
"Zechs," I acknowledged with a cordial nod. "So?"  
  
"I adore hostile take-overs," he informed me cheerfully. "It took three million, but you are now the proud owner of The Exclusive."  
  
I blinked. "That was quick."  
  
"Yup. It helps that I have some blackmail on file for the CEO -- ex-CEO, I should say. Your orders?"  
  
I wasn't about to question his methods. There was a reason why I had Zechs on staff, he had a knack for doing the impossible. And quickly. "Shut it down."  
  
He slowly straightened in my chair, the smile going wicked. "Is this about that photograph of you and the hunk?"  
  
"Dr. Trowa Barton," I corrected icily. "And yes. I want it understood, Zechs. They can take a million pictures of me in public, but when I enter my home that's when it stops."  
  
Zechs treated me to a dubious look. "You really think you can do it? A lot of people have tried to get the press to back off over the years, and they didn't succeed."  
  
"They didn't buy out the worst offender and shut them down," I pointed out, gesturing him sharply out of my chair.   
  
"... you do have a point." He got up and strolled out of the way, body language silently proclaiming that he had every intention of moving and that my silent command hadn't had a thing to do with it. "Well, if there's one thing that I love more than hostile take-overs, it's telling tabloid reporters where to stick it. You do realize that you'll get even more media coverage after this?"  
  
"For a short time," I acknowledged grimly. It would pay off in the long-run, though, and that was what I was really concerned with.  
  
"Just checking. Bye, boss."  
  
I let Zechs find his own way out and went back to my other paperwork. Or at least, that was the game plan.   
  
+  
  
Roughly at noon Charlene opened the door and poked her head in. "Mr. Winner, Dr. Barton is here to see you."  
  
I sat up abruptly, nearly knocking my tea mug over. "Send him in!" It must be something if Trowa was actually at _my_ office to talk to me. I scrambled out from behind the desk and met him halfway as he came in. Charlene, bless her, closed the door behind him. "Trowa? What's wrong?"  
  
He caught me up in a hug, pressing a kiss against my temple. "You're right. Your grandmother is definitely unhappy about your decision."  
  
Uh... that sounded ominous. I tilted my head back so I could see his face. "And do I want to know why you know this?"  
  
"She came to see me about twenty minutes ago."  
  
I felt the sudden urge to sit down. I had a feeling it would be easier if I took this sitting down. I led him to the couch I have tucked in a corner and sat him down, putting myself on his lap. "And?"  
  
For answer, Trowa brought out two pieces of paper from his shirt pocket and handed them to me. Even before I accepted them I recognized what it was. A check, torn in two. With icy dread gnawing at my stomach I flipped it over so I could look at it.  
  
$250,000. 00  
  
"She tried to buy you off," I choked out.   
  
"I think there was a French villa and a condo in Hawaii in there somewhere to," he added quietly.   
  
My god, I had not expected her to do anything like this. Helplessly I looked at him, wondering if I should apologize or... actually, I had no idea what else to do.   
  
"There was an upside to this," he continued, still in that quiet calm way. I think it was the calm before the storm. It felt... unnatural. "She went there with the firm belief that I was nothing more than a fuck for you."  
  
I flinched at the crude wording, but held my tongue.   
  
"She knew when she left that I love you... and Amee. I won't turn my back on the two of you. Not for a king's ransom. Besides," he gave me an evil grin, "you have no idea how good it felt to tear that check up in front of her face and tell her to go to hell."  
  
Shakily I drew in a breath. My grandmother had played a hand I hadn't expected... but Trowa was still here with me. He said he loved me. As long as I had him and Amee, I was okay. "Well, I'm glad that you got some pleasure from this. Thank you for telling me in person."  
  
"I thought it necessary. I didn't want you doubting me."   
  
I threw both arms around his neck and held on tightly. "I love you too."  
  
His hold became almost punishing at that, and I could feel him exhale shakily. "Sorry. I should have phrased that better. It was a lousy way to say it," he muttered.   
  
"You could try again," I suggested softly.   
  
"... I love you."  
  
I pressed a smiling kiss to his mouth. "You are definitely improving with practice."  
  
He laughed softly, eyes shining. "Imagine how good I'll say it five hundred times from now."  
  
"I'm just vibrating in anticipation. How much time do you have?"  
  
"Actually, I took the rest of the day off. I didn't think I should stick around. This day has been such an up and down rollercoaster."  
  
"Hm... don't move." I flew to my office door, stuck my head out into the outer office and told a startled Charlene "Hold my calls, and re-arrange the rest of my meetings for tomorrow. No, scratch that, day after tomorrow. I don't want to see anyone for the rest of the day."  
  
"Yes, Mr. Winner."  
  
"Thanks, Charlene." I popped back into the office, closed the door... and deliberately locked it, giving Trowa a lecherous smile and waggling my eyebrows. "Now... where were we?"  
  
+  
  
I only got to keep Trowa about two hours. Then both of our cellphones went off within a minute of each other. When I finally pried myself loose, I checked my voicemail to find that Amee had called me, wanting to know if anything else had happened. Apparently grandmother had called her. Oh boy.   
  
"I better let you go," I told him with true regret. It had been very relaxing to have him all to myself, with no immediate deadlines. "Real life is starting to invade again."  
  
He nodded in rueful agreement. "Apparently. Look... I think I'll stay with Amee for the rest of the day. If your grandmother shows up there, at least I'll be there to help deal with her."  
  
"That is a marvelous idea. Do it. I'll try to be home in another hour."  
  
"Okay."   
  
We cleaned up a little, as much as a box of Kleenex would allow, straightened out our clothes, then indulged in one last... long... kiss, before Trowa left. I could just imagine Charlene outside, taking careful note of every detail. She's a gossip hound, after all.   
  
I was just in the process of cleaning up my paperwork when Charlene put her head in. "There has been a ton of calls from the news. They all want to do an interview."  
  
And they'd keep plaguing me until they had it, too. The question was, which one did I choose? Hm... "Did WBC call?" I had dealt with them before, and knew that they were at least good about keeping what I said in context without construing it to mean other things.   
  
"Yes, sir."  
  
"Call them back. If they can get someone down here in the next twenty minutes, and they _swear_ that this won't take ten minutes, then I'll do an interview."  
  
Charlene looked at me like I was a pod person or something, but nodded and went back to her desk. Okay, so usually I don't like doing interviews... and I curse reporters... that doesn't mean I've suddenly lost my mind.   
  
Fifteen minutes later, I was in an open conference room with the evening anchor, Ms. Bennett. She was smartly dressed in a light grey suit, hair done up and make-up perfect. I was just as confident that I looked like the businessman I was supposed to be... and not the man that had been entwined on a couch with my sexy lover earlier this afternoon.   
  
The cameraman gave the signal that the cameras were rolling, and Ms. Bennett turned to me with a charming smile. "Mr. Winner, we've heard an extraordinary report that you bought The Exclusive today, only to promptly shut it down."  
  
"That's correct," I replied evenly.   
  
"Is it because of their article this morning?"  
  
"No. It was because of the picture." I hadn't been entirely aware that an article was there. The picture had been my focus.  
  
"Indeed. Why?"  
  
"When that picture was taken, Ms. Bennett, I had been in my living room, supposedly in the sanctity of my home. Public exposure is one thing -- but I will not tolerate having my personal life invaded when I am at home."  
  
"That is certainly understandable, Mr. Winner. But don't you think that buying a company, using millions of dollars to do so, and then shutting it down is a little drastic?"  
  
"It's interesting you should say that, Ms. Bennett. A colleague pointed that out to me earlier today. I'll give you the same answer I gave him. Over the years, many celebrities and politicians have asked the news media to give them a little space so they can lead private lives -- those requests have never been granted. By buying The Exclusive, I hope that I've made my point in establishing that I will _not_ be lenient on this subject."  
  
"You're putting a great many people out of jobs."  
  
Oh she would _have_ to bring up that point. "Those who have skills that will adapt to my business will be moved elsewhere, if they wish." Except the reporters. Reporters aren't my favorite people right now.  
  
"And if they don't?"  
  
"Then they're going to have to go job hunting, just like anyone else would in this situation."  
  
"That's a rather harsh thing to say, Mr. Winner."  
  
"It's reality, Ms. Bennett. I might have been in a more reasonable mood and offered more help, if they had chosen a different and less private moment to expose. Actually, we wouldn't be having this conversation now if they had exercised a little discretion. They didn't. End of story."   
  
"And... cut."  
  
We both relaxed slightly as the camera was taken off of us. I stood and shook Ms. Bennett's hand politely. "Thank you for staying within the time limit."  
  
"If you don't mind my asking," she was wearing that feminine grin that meant she was going to ask for dirty details, "just how did you meet such a gorgeous man?"  
  
"My little sister can actually claim the points for that."  
  
"And what does she think now?"  
  
"She's gloating. I imagine most women would, in her position."  
  
"Actually," Ms. Bennett corrected with a sharp smile, "most women would be jealous. Of him... and of you."  
  
I was left completely without a response as she thanked me for my time, and led her people back out of the room. Women. Go figure.


	5. Gossips

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Honor A. De'Mandoren

"You know what charm is: a way of getting the answer yes without having asked any clear question."   
\- Albert Camus, "The Fall"   
  
\+   
  
Friday dawned, but not everything was back to normal yet. Since our secret was out anyway, I had Trowa pack a bag so he could spend the weekend with me. I wanted my lover with me, and I knew he felt the same as he immediately agreed. I cut work an hour short and picked up Amee myself, expecting to surprise her with the news that we could spend the weekend with Trowa.   
  
She clambered into the car with tears streaking down her cheeks, lower lip trembling.   
  
"Amee?" I reached over the middle consol and hugged her. "What's wrong? Are you hurt?" I didn't see anything physically wrong with her.   
  
"Somebody told me that I c-can't live with you anymore."  
  
"What?!" Okay, where the hell was this coming from?  
  
"T-they said that gay people can't have k-kids."  
  
Oh shit. I tightened my hold on her, pressing a kiss against her forehead. "They're right in a way, but not in this case. That would only be true if I were trying to adopt you. You already live with me, so that law doesn't come into play. Okay? Does that make sense?"  
  
She nodded against my chest, sniffling. Reluctantly I pulled back, watching her face. I could tell she wanted to believe me -- but that she was still worried about it. Our grandmother had alluded to this same law when talking to Amee earlier. Maybe it was weighing in Amee's mind because so many people were mentioning it to her. Things tended to sound true if it were repeated often enough.   
  
Nothing that I could say could really fix this, and I hated that feeling. Silently I put the car into gear and drove home, mind worrying different angles of approach as I drove. I was so wrapped up in my thoughts, I almost forgot to share my news. "Trowa is spending the weekend with us at our house."  
  
Amee brightened slightly. "Really?"  
  
"Yup. He's promised to cook tonight too."  
  
She settled back into the seat, more at ease.   
  
How do I fix this...   
  
+  
  
Amee was upstairs practicing her music lessons when Trowa came in. I hugged him tightly as the front door closed. "Remember what you said about two days ago? About emotional roller coasters?"  
  
Trowa tensed, tilting my head up so he could look at me. "What happened?"  
  
"Someone told Amee that she couldn't live with me anymore because I'm gay."  
  
Trowa started swearing softly.   
  
"The worst part about this is that it's more than just one person telling her that -- I tried to reassure her, but she's being hit by this from so many angles, part of her believes that there must be an element of truth in it. What more can I do?" I whispered. "I hate to see her torn up like this."  
  
"Maybe... " his head cocked a little, and the wheels were turning madly in his mind. "Maybe she needs it straight from the horse's mouth."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I have a friend of mine, a lawyer. I bet if we let her talk to him, and let him assure her that there's nothing to be worried about, that she would let go of this. After all, it's his business to know all angles of the law."   
  
The more I thought about it, the more I liked the idea. "Let's do it."   
  
"Tonight?"  
  
My eyebrows shot up. "This must be a good friend to come over at a moment's notice."  
  
"He is. If I bribe him with country fried steaks, he'll be over here in five minutes."  
  
"Bachelor who can't cook?" I hazarded.   
  
"Close. His Chinese gourmet is out of this world, but he can't seem to do much else. I'll call him, okay?"  
  
I waved him toward the phone. To my surprise he hit the speaker button. I didn't expect to be able to listen in on this call. On the second ring it picked up.   
  
<<Hello?>>  
  
Imagine the perfect voice for phone sex. That was what I was hearing.   
  
"Wufei, I'm making country fried steaks."   
  
<<... and what do you need?>>  
  
"I need you to come over and give some legal advice. Five minutes, tops."  
  
<<That's it?>>  
  
"That's it." Trowa winked at me, mouthing 'he's hooked'.   
  
There was a moment of contemplative silence. <<All the trimmings?>>  
  
"Would you prefer mashed potatoes or baked?"  
  
<<Mashed. I'll be over in five minutes.>>  
  
"Ah... I'm not at the apartment. Do you know where 68 Country Terrace is?"  
  
<<Trowa. Are you suggesting that you want me to come over to your _boyfriend's_ house for dinner? >>  
  
"Yes."  
  
<<You two haven't done something kinky and/or illegal, have you?>>  
  
"Kinky hasn't been entirely ruled out, but it will be legal. Mostly. Honestly, Wufei, just a little advice."  
  
<<Hn. Alright, I'll be there in fifteen.>>  
  
I was a little fascinated by this. I've never had a friend like that, one that would just trust that his help was needed and come over with no warning. "How long does it take to make country fried steaks?"  
  
"About an hour," Trowa admitted easily. "We better get started."  
  
"That is a safe assumption, yes."  
  
+  
  
Roughly twenty minutes later I heard the door bell. I left Trowa to cooking and answered it.   
  
Roughly 5'8", slim build, black hair pulled back tightly in a pony tail and black slanted eyes. I had not expected a Chinese man at my door, or for him to be so damned good looking.   
  
He gave me a quick scrutiny, a flash of approval over his face. "You must be Quatre Winner."  
  
"That's me," I confirmed. "Chang Wufei?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Come inside." I stepped back and let him in, closing the door behind him. "Trowa is in the kitchen."  
  
"He'd better be. What is this advice that you need?"  
  
"Ah... let's sit down first." Amee was doing homework in the study (she's absolutely fascinated with sitting at my desk, I have no idea why) and I didn't want her to overhear. I led him through to the kitchen. Trowa was just putting something in the oven when we came in. The aroma of food was making my mouth water.   
  
Trowa glanced up once the oven door was shut. "Hello, Wufei."  
  
"Trowa." Wufei nodded back. "What is this about?"  
  
"We need you to answer a question."  
  
"Are you purposefully being obscure, or are you trying to get me irritated enough to hit you?"  
  
Trowa grinned. "Both, naturally."  
  
"Quatre!" Amee came around the corner at high speeds. "Is Trowa -- oh, I'm sorry." In the blink of an eye she went from your usual seven year old to a proper little lady. She gave Wufei a charming smile, batting innocent big blue eyes.   
  
Wufei did something of a double take at seeing her, and I noticed that his eyes darted to me before settling back on her. No doubt he was comparing features.   
  
Trowa stepped forward to do the introductions. "Wufei, this is Amara Winner. Amee, a good friend of mine, Chang Wufei."  
  
Amee held out a hand, which Wufei took. He didn't shake it as she expected though, but gave her a proper bow. "A pleasure."  
  
Amee blinked, then giggled a little. She looked a little star struck, not that I can blame her. "How do you do."  
  
Trowa sank down to her level and murmured, "He's a lawyer. I thought you might want to ask a few questions."  
  
Amee bit her bottom lip, glancing at him in doubt, then up at Wufei in blatant uncertainty.   
  
Wufei leaned down and picked her up by the waist, making her squeal. With no noticeable effort he put her on one of the barstools. "Now I can see you better. Maybe you can answer something for me, Amee."  
  
"Um... okay."  
  
"This idiot," Wufei's thumb jerked in Trowa's direction, "called me out of my nice, comfy apartment saying that he needed advice, unfairly bribes me with my favorite meal, but once I get here he won't tell me what's going on. Maybe you know?"  
  
She just... relaxed under his focused attention. I probably would have to. He certainly knew how to be charming. "I think it might be my fault."  
  
"Why? Did you murder somebody and stashed the body in his trunk?"  
  
She giggled, head shaking. "No!"  
  
"Married him under Quatre's nose?"  
  
The head shaking became more emphatic. "Uh-uh. It's just... somebody told me something. They said that because Quatre and Trowa were together, that I wouldn't be able to live here anymore."  
  
I could literally see all the pieces falling into place as Wufei looked at her. He even looked a little indignant. "Ah. Well, they were wrong."  
  
She went back to biting her lip. "Are you sure?"  
  
"Positive. It's true that gay couples cannot adopt children, but once a child is adopted, things stay that way. There is no legal course for taking a child away from a gay couple. Besides, Trowa isn't connected to you legally is he?"  
  
She thought that over. "No."  
  
"I thought not. After all, I haven't been invited to a wedding. Quatre is your father, and the law doesn't have a right to take you away at all because of that."  
  
"Actually," I corrected carefully, "she's my sister."  
  
"Oh." Wufei gave me a considering look. "You did look a little bit young to have a daughter of this age. Are you her legal guardian?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Hm. It doesn't change things. The law has absolutely no right to take you away from here, not even if Trowa and Quatre were married," Wufei assured her. There was a certain amount of authority to what he was saying that just lent weight to his words. I could see that Amee believed him.   
  
"Okay."   
  
He nodded to her, and she nodded back with all seriousness. "Good. Now that I've slain my quota of ogres, when is dinner going to be ready?"  
  
"Half an hour," Trowa volunteered. He was smiling slightly at them, obviously pleased. It was a feeling I shared at the moment. I was beginning to really like his friend.   
  
*ring*  
  
Wufei sighed and pulled his cell phone out. "Excuse me a moment." Putting it to his ear, he drifted toward the end of the counter. "Hello." A beat. "No, Duo, I'm not running late. Trowa is cooking country fried steaks." There was an expansive roll of his head. "May I remind you that he has a boyfriend? I didn't have to bribe him with kinky sex, not that I have ever done that to begin with."   
  
Trowa was snickering as he started peeling potatoes. I assumed that this was something of a long-standing joke.   
  
"You can't come over... Don't screech at me! We're not at his apartment, we're at his boyfriend's house... No, there is no threesome involved. He needed some legal advice, and dinner was the lure to get me over here."  
  
Duo sounded like an interesting personality, just from the way Wufei was responding to him. I tapped Wufei on the shoulder to get his attention. "He can come over here, I don't mind."  
  
Wufei put a hand over the bottom of the phone. "Are you sure? I don't wish to impose."  
  
"It's not a problem," I assured him.   
  
"Alright." Lifting his hand off he went back to talking to Duo. "Quatre claims that you can come over. OW!" Wufei yanked the phone away from his ear and glared at it a moment before putting it cautiously back. "Sha zi, don't yell into the phone! You have something to write on? Good, here's the directions."  
  
I sidled closer to Trowa and whispered, "Is Wufei involved with him?"  
  
"Yes," Trowa answered, with one eye on his friend. "Duo Maxwell. We were all room mates at college, that's how we met. They didn't get really interested in each other until last year, though."  
  
"Oh." Well that gave me a better feel for them. Apparently these three had been friends for years.   
  
Amee had been watching us silently, and apparently listening closely to both conversations. On par with seven year olds, she asked the one question that she shouldn't. "What's a threesome?"  
  
I choked. Trowa was shaking with silent laughter, and judging from Wufei's sudden interest in his phone, he had no intention of answering that question. "Not something you need to know," I told her firmly.   
  
"You always say that," she complained.   
  
"I'll explain it later."   
  
Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. "Later like tomorrow or later like when I'm eighteen?"  
  
"Thirty." Maybe. With any luck, she'll forget and I won't have to explain.   
  
She huffed and crossed her arms across her chest moodily, but thankfully let it drop.   
  
Miracles never cease.   
  
+  
  
Duo Maxwell was again, not at all what I expected. He was roughly my height, long chestnut braid down to his waist and brilliant blue eyes that leaned toward being violet. He greeted me with a one-armed hug, (something that threw me for a loop) Wufei with a kiss and Trowa with a full bear hug. "Tro, that smells soooo good! You gotta bribe 'Fei more often." He bounced free and spun to meet Amee. "Wow! It's like looking at a live china doll. Who are you, gorgeous?"  
  
She giggled, giving him a little curtsy. "Amee Winner."  
  
"I'm Duo." He captured her hand, kneeling before her with (fake) rapture in his eyes. "You will marry me, won't you?"  
  
Trowa casually smacked him back in the head. "Stop seducing her, idiot."  
  
Amee just giggled again. "You have funny friends, Trowa."  
  
"They keep life from getting boring," Trowa agreed blandly. "But it's hard to take them out in public."  
  
Duo rubbed the back of his head, pouting at the abuse. "You're mean, Tro. So when's dinner?"  
  
"Ten minutes."  
  
"Excellent. It gives me just enough time to pry the full story out of you. Now, to begin with, can I keep Amee?"  
  
"No," I told him firmly.   
  
"Spoilsport," Duo complained. "I'd give her back. Eventually."  
  
Wufei drifted to his partner's side, eyebrow cocked. "Do you want to use her as a model?"  
  
"Of course!" Duo shot back. "Look at her, she's gorgeous, and she's polite which most girls her age aren't."  
  
"Model?" I asked in confusion.   
  
"I'm a clothing designer for children," Duo explained cheerfully. "I'm always looking for a good model, because most kids in the business look good but have sucky personalities. I can't stand to work with them for more than a week or two."  
  
Amee's eyes lit up. "Really?"  
  
I knew what was coming and groaned. Amee flew to my side and glomped my leg. "Please?"  
  
"Amee... ."  
  
"PLEASE????"  
  
"You go to school," I reminded her. "And violin lessons, and piano lessons, and gymnastics. Do you have time for more?"  
  
"I'm only talking a few hours a week," Duo inserted with all the smooth charm of a car salesman. "Five, tops."  
  
Call me a sucker, but I can't say no when Amee bats those big blue eyes of hers with a little pout on her face. With a sigh I gave in. "Okay, fine."  
  
"YES!" She hugged me tightly, then started bouncing around the room.   
  
"I hope you know what you're getting into," I told Duo.   
  
"Uh... why?"  
  
"Amee has a fashion sense like you would not believe," Trowa informed him. He was damn near smirking when he said it too. "I've gone shopping with her before, and she certainly knows clothes. Be prepared for her opinion."  
  
Duo looked a bit struck by this idea. "Kids with a fashion sense... hold everything, I just felt the world tilt. So, going back to the main topic -- what'd you need 'Fei for?"  
  
Amee stopped doing her victory dance long enough to return to the conversation. "That was my fault."  
  
Duo stared down at her in surprise. "Really? Did you kill somebody and stash the body in Tro's trunk or something?"  
  
She started giggling. "That's what Wufei asked me!"  
  
"And no, she didn't," Wufei assured his partner dryly. "Someone told her that since Quatre and Trowa were lovers, she wouldn't be able to live here anymore."  
  
Duo narrowed his eyes angrily. "That was stupid. And mean."  
  
Trowa reached down and swung Amee up into his arms. She snuggled right into him, I noticed, without batting an eye. Hm... methinks she likes to snuggle with a certain sexy doctor. I really couldn't blame her. "It doesn't matter though, does it?" Trowa asked her softly.   
  
"No," she agreed with a smile. "As long as it's not true, it doesn't matter."   
  
+  
  
Dinner was a riot. I have never in my life been surrounded by so many interesting people all at once. I thought Amee was going to laugh herself into an asthma fit. Some of the humor was above her level -- but she was a smart little girl and most of it she got.   
  
Okay, so I'm prejudiced. Your point?  
  
When dinner was over, we just moved to the living room and settled in there. Trowa pulled me into his lap without hesitation, and I snuggled back into him, pressing my ass into his crotch. I felt him stiffen up slightly and grinned. It wasn't really about sex -- I just liked knowing that I could make him hot and horny for me in two seconds flat. Amee sat on the couch next to us, apparently interested to see that Duo and Wufei were sitting very close together, as any other couple would. I was thankful she didn't say anything, even though she was obviously curious.   
  
"So, Tro." Duo had a devilish twinkle in his eye that did not bode well. "I see that you're as photogenic as always."  
  
Trowa groaned, head dropping onto my shoulder. "I should have known you'd see it."  
  
"Yup."  
  
"It was a very interesting move on your part," Wufei noted in my direction. "I don't think anyone has ever actually bought a tabloid press and shut it down for pushing their boundaries."  
  
"It was the only thing I could think of that would get them to stop," I answered honestly. "Besides, it was a very... intimate moment. It galls me that someone actually was privy to it."  
  
"What was the picture?" Amee demanded.   
  
"She doesn't know?"  
  
I tilted to look at Trowa. "No. I didn't keep a copy."  
  
"It just so happens," Duo waggled his eyebrows as he dug his wallet out of his back pocket, "that I have a copy."  
  
Amee clapped her hands in delight and darted to his side even as Trowa and I groaned. Duo pulled out a newspaper clipping and tilted it so she could see. In a purely female way she squealed and bounced on her toes. "Oh, that's so sweet!"  
  
"I rather thought so," Duo agreed with her, also looking at the picture with a wide smile. "They do look good together, don't they?"  
  
"Mm-hm."   
  
Note to self: find out what happened to the original picture. Even if I wasn't all too happy about other people seeing that moment, I rather like the idea of having my own copy.   
  
*ring*  
  
Oookay... it was very unusual for someone to call me this late on a Friday night. Untangling myself from Trowa, I went to the foyer phone and picked it up. "Hello?"  
  
<<Quatre. I wish to speak with you.>>  
  
I took in a large breath, and slowly let it out. "Grandmother, I have guests at the moment. Can we talk tomorrow?"  
  
<<You never have guests.>>  
  
"I do today."  
  
<<Who are they?>>  
  
"Wufei and Duo." I didn't think she'd be able to believe me unless I actually gave their names. "Why do you always interrogate me when I make a statement?"  
  
<<Perhaps because you've been lying to me for so many years.>>  
  
I was acutely aware that there were four people in the room behind me with at least half an ear cocked in my direction. I turned my back to them and lowered my voice even more. "I'll admit to lying by omission, but no more. And if you want to 'talk' to me only to rant, then forget it."  
  
<<I am not going to 'rant' at you. I want to talk with you with more depth on this... matter.>>  
  
Instinct said 'don't do it'. However, she was my grandmother. I didn't want to just write her off. "Fine. Cicero's at ten?"   
  
<<I'll see you there.>>  
  
I hung up the phone and blew out a breath. Hopefully... this won't be a mistake.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).


	6. Assumptions

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Honor A. De'Mandoren

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

_There cannot be a crisis this week; my schedule is already full._  
  
\+   
  
My grandmother was just as composed and lovely as usual when I joined her at the table. I was thankful she had chosen an outside table. If this turned into a shouting match (and it might) I could make a cleaner escape this way. She nodded to me coolly as I sat down.   
  
Well. At least I know the tone of this meeting.   
  
"Good morning."  
  
"Good morning," she returned. "I've ordered chamomile for you."  
  
It was my usual order, so I nodded in acceptance. "What do you want to say?"  
  
"Your doctor no doubt told you that I saw him." She smiled, more a baring of teeth than a warm _expression. "Yes, I can see by your very unhappy _expression that he did. I was rather... impressed, actually. He's a very strong man, with very high principals. He rather reminds me of your grandfather in that aspect. I wish I had met him in a different way. I might actually have come to an appropriate friendship with him."  
  
I didn't care for where this was heading. "Please stop dancing around the subject."   
  
"Very well. I cannot, apparently, convince him to leave you. However, I also cannot let this... relationship continue like this. The truth of the matter is, Quatre, is that you are Master Winner. You _must_ have heirs. I am willing to compromise. Marry someone of appropriate breeding and have a son, and I will allow you to remain with Dr. Barton without saying a word against it."  
  
Very deliberately I steepled my fingers in front of my chin. "Let me get this straight. You want me to marry some poor woman just for appearances sake, and impregnate her, and in the meantime keep Trowa in a closet somewhere, out of sight?"  
  
"You must think of your position," she returned softly.   
  
"You did hear me when I said that I loved him, didn't you? You heard him when he said that he loved me? You actually understand what it means to love, _do you not?"_  
  
"Do not take that tone of voice with me!"  
  
I slapped one my hands down on the table, making everything jump a little. "Listen well, woman. I will not betray Trowa -- not by thought, not by word, and certainly not by deed. _I love him_. He's the one that carries my heart, and with it my trust."  
  
She straightened in her chair, eyes blazing. "I said don't take that tone of voice with me!"  
  
I rode over her indignation, becoming even louder. "I don't care a fuck about appearances sake, or the 'purity' of the Winner line, or for that matter whether I ever have your approval. You've _never_ approved of me! Nothing I have ever done has satisfied you and I think it's apparent by now that I can be extraordinarily happy without your 'approval'!"  
  
She sat back stunned. "You -- you've never spoken to me like this before."  
  
"My mistake," I responded coldly. "Apparently, this is the only way that you'll listen to me. No, grandmother, I will not marry someone of 'acceptable' breeding. If I marry anyone at all, it will be Trowa. If you feel that you must supplant me with someone more acceptable, than by all means do so. I will hardly be beggared if I am not CEO of the company." I stood up, narrowly avoiding crashing into the waitress bringing my tea.   
  
"Quatre -- " she glanced nervously at the hovering girl, but at this point I didn't care who heard me.   
  
"I've heard enough," I interrupted harshly. "I cannot believe that you would actually condone adultery like that. I cannot believe this whole conversation took place... and I will never participate in another like it. Accept me and my lover, or don't. It makes no difference to me." Turning on my heel sharply, I stalked away. I felt like I was steaming with anger, but another part of me was calm. If nothing else, I knew precisely where my grandmother stood.   
  
Best yet, I knew where Trowa stood and that I was coming home to him, and Amee.   
  
Nothing could beat that feeling.   
  
+  
  
When I arrived home, Trowa was sprawled on the couch, phone to his ear and a book in front of him. As I came through the door he looked up and smiled, mouthing 'How did it go?'  
  
'Later' I mouthed back.   
  
He covered the bottom of the phone with his hand so he could talk to me. "It's Cathy. Don't ask how she tracked me down here, I have no idea. Right now she's ranting at me for not telling her about you."  
  
"Ah. Hence why you're paying no attention to her?"  
  
"Yup."  
  
"Where's Amee?"  
  
"Duo swung by a bit ago and picked her up. They went shopping."  
  
Duo, I had a feeling, just became one of Amee's favorite people. As I stood watching him, it slowly sank in that we were home alone. Hm. Now this raises some interesting possibilities.   
  
Casually I strolled to the living room window and closed the curtains. Then I went back to the door -- and locked it. While Trowa watched me, one eyebrow raised, I toed off my shoes and crossed to the phone line. "Do you really want to talk to your sister right now?"  
  
"Not really."  
  
"Good." I unplugged the telephone line and let it drop to the floor.   
  
Trowa put the phone on the ground and slowly sat up, setting his book aside. "Whatever it is that you're planning, I hope it involves taking off all our clothes."  
  
"As a matter of fact... it does."  
  
Trowa grinned and started unbuttoning his shirt. "The day is definitely improving. Get over here."  
  
That was an order I was only too happy to obey.  
  
+  
  
Monday morning was a depressing one. There were several reasons for it. Trowa went back to work, Amee went to school and the clincher -- I went back to work. Sometimes I really hated paperwork.   
  
The only thing that got me through the morning was a solid promise to myself that I could get Trowa into the back of his suburban during lunch. Without that assurance, I don't think I would have made it. I had become very intimate with my lover during the weekend, and I was desperately missing his presence right now. Why do we even have to work? Can't I just keep him locked up with me in my bedroom all the time?   
  
Charlene poked her head in my office. "There's a call for you from Dan McLean on line one."  
  
Dan McLean? He was an independent news anchor who owned his own TV station. I actually had a modicum of respect for the man. I've never heard him report news that was slanted, and he's never gone for 'sensational' stuff. "Thanks, Charlene."  
  
She ducked back out and I picked up the phone. "This is Quatre Winner."  
  
<<Good morning, Mr. Winner. This is Dan McLean. I'm sure you're aware of the interest surrounding your recent relationship?>>  
  
Well, he certainly cuts to the chase. "All too aware, I'm afraid. What's your point Mr. McLean?"  
  
<<Just Dan, please. I want to do an interview with your grandmother, Mrs. Winner and with your sister Amee.>>  
  
That was an interesting choice. "Why those two exactly?"  
  
<<A lot of the controversy and rumor mill is about you... but another part of it is your family. I want to do an interview with them to see how this affects family more than anything else.>>  
  
A different angle, in other words. "Hm... it's not entirely up to me, naturally."  
  
<<Naturally.>>  
  
"Tell you what, Dan. I'll talk it over with my family and get back to you. When do you want this interview done?"  
  
<<Is three days from now too soon?>>  
  
"I don't think so, assuming they agree."  
  
<<Then thank you for your time.>>  
  
I hung up and stared thoughtfully into the distance.  
  
+  
  
About seven that night I brought it up while we were eating dinner. I'm seriously thinking about having Trowa move in with me if only to have his cooking skills within easy reach. Damn, can the man cook!  
  
It was funny, but the more I thought about the idea of Amee doing an interview the more I liked it. I could just imagine how this would pan out. He wanted to do an interview with Amee and my grandmother. I grinned to myself, bubbling over in sadistic glee. That poor sod. He had no idea what he was requesting. "Amee, do you want to do an interview with Dan McLean?"  
  
Trowa looked at me like I had lost my mind but Amee was grinning. "Sure! You're going to let me do it?"  
  
"You're better with reporters than I am," I reminded her. "Besides, if there is anyone that can turn this around in our favor, it's going to be you."  
  
She preened, eyes dancing. "I think the cobalt blue dress will be right for this."  
  
+  
  
Trowa and I both went with her to the interview, naturally. She went a half hour before the show was supposed to start and went into make-up. I half-expected them to put her into another outfit or do something with her hair, but they just took one look at her and started complimenting her on her style. Figures.   
  
As we stood out of the way, waiting for everything to start happening, my grandmother came in. She stared at us frostily for a moment before sweeping past and into make-up as well. I exhaled softly when she was out of sight, fighting down my anger with her.  
  
"Easy," Trowa murmured to me. He slid his hand into mine and squeezed slightly.   
  
"I just want to pound sense into her."  
  
"I know. But you've already given Amee that job, remember?"  
  
I smirked and shifted so I could lean my head against his arm. "True."  
  
+  
  
Dan McLean was an impeccably dressed man of thirty-five, dark hair and light grey eyes. He was cordially charming with my sister and grandmother, and politely welcoming to myself and Trowa. I don't think he was expecting us there, but I wasn't about to leave Amee by herself here. Especially with my grandmother nearby. I assured him that we were only going to watch, not come into the interview itself. That settled the issue, I think. He seemed calmer after that.   
  
They sat in several plushy chairs in the typical studio room. Grandmother was so rigid I thought her spine would just freeze up in that position. She kept giving Amee worried looks too. That just warmed my heart. Grandmother knows as well as I how well Amee can manipulate the press.   
  
The camera started rolling, and Dan did the usual introductions for the TV audience before he turned to face the women to the side of him. "Now, Amee," Dan started calmly, "I assume that you know about your brother and his boyfriend."  
  
"Yes I do," she answered with a charming smile. "And I get the credit for introducing them."  
  
Dan's eyebrows shot up. "You introduced them?"  
  
She nodded, hair swaying around her face a little. "Mm-hm. I was hurt at school, and Trowa was the one that bandaged me up."  
  
"So the report that your brother's boyfriend is a doctor is true?"  
  
"It is."  
  
"And what do you think of this, Mrs. Winner?"  
  
"I think it's reprehensible," Vivian replied coldly. "I am firmly against this... alliance, and I think it's wrong that my granddaughter's thinking has been altered to believe that this is acceptable."  
  
Amee rolled her eyes. "No one 'convinced' me one way or the other. I figured out last year that Quatre was gay. He never said anything to me. How can you convince someone if you never say anything?"  
  
In the wings, I was silently cheering her on. Good point, keep going!  
  
"So your brother -- Quatre -- never suggested to you that he was gay or that loving someone of the same sex was appropriate?" Dan was very careful to say this as neutrally as possible.   
  
"Nope."  
  
"Then why do you think it is acceptable?"  
  
"Why shouldn't I?" Amee countered. "Everybody always tells me that everything is alright if you really love someone. Why should that change just because it's two men that love each other?"  
  
God, I love this girl!  
  
Dan blinked, and slowly started to smile. "You know Amee, I never thought of it that way. You make a very valid point. So how did you know your brother was gay?"  
  
Amee cocked her head slightly. "Well, he never really looked at other women. It was easy to figure out why."  
  
Vivian shifted in her seat irritably. "I certainly didn't figure it out by observation."  
  
"You were too busy trying to set him up with girls," Amee countered.   
  
Oooh. First blood! I really shouldn't be entertained by this...   
  
Dan quickly intervened before my grandmother could let loose with a scathing remark. "Amee, how did your brother react when he saw his picture in the Exclusive?"  
  
"I've never seen him that angry," she admitted. "I couldn't really blame him either. I would be angry too."  
  
"And you, Mrs. Winner? What did you think of it?"  
  
"I have never been so ashamed and embarrassed in my entire life," Vivian remarked with a noticeable tic in the corner of her mouth. "The only thing I did approve of in the whole affair was when Quatre bought the Exclusive and shut it down."  
  
"Even if he used the family fortune to do so?"  
  
"He used his personal account," Vivian corrected. "The purchase did not come from family funding."  
  
"Ah. You've stated in several ways that you do not approve of your grandson's sexual orientation or of his lover -- how is this going to affect the future?"  
  
"I respectfully decline to answer that question, Mr. McLean."  
  
Dan sensibly chose to go back to Amee, who had proven to be very open on this subject. "And you, Amee?"  
  
"Hm... " She slowly smiled, then winked at him. "I think it's going to be even more fun! Quatre's happier because Trowa is here and I like playing with Trowa too."  
  
Vivian snorted. "Fun? Is that all you can say about this?"  
  
Amee sighed, very put upon, and gave her grandmother a put out glare. "Stop pouting, grandma. Just because things didn't turn out the way you wanted, doesn't mean that it didn't turn out the way it was _supposed_ to."  
  
"And just what does that mean?"  
  
"Yes," Dan inputted with great curiosity, "what do you mean by that?"  
  
"You forget," Amee told the two of them smugly. "I was there when they met and I saw what happened -- and I don't think anyone has the right to argue with love at first sight."  
  
+  
  
As the interview ran down, Trowa leaned in close to me and murmured, "Love at first sight?"  
  
"Personally, it was lust at first sight," I muttered back. I was fighting down a smile though. Amee was much too observant at times. "I didn't fall in love with you until that first date."  
  
"Ah." He thought about that for a moment, then shrugged. "Well, I guess it was one-sided love for a while then."  
  
My head snapped up to look at him. He'd... "You mean... it was love at first sight?"  
  
He gave me a small enigmatic smile but didn't respond.   
  
"Trowa," I growled. If he thought I was leaving it like that, he was crazy.   
  
"So?" A bright little girl voice demanded. "How did I do?"  
  
Mental note: deal with Trowa later. I turned my attention back to the present and my sister and gave her a thumb's up. "Excellent."  
  
Amee beamed back at me, gloating.   
  
Trowa picked her up (this is beginning to become a habit) and planted a kiss on her cheek. Judging from her happy sigh, she appreciated being picked up and the kiss. "You were marvelous. I think we should go out to dinner to celebrate."  
  
"Chinese?" she asked hopefully.   
  
Trowa quirked a brow at me. "You two are definitely related."  
  
*click*  
  
My head snapped around to see a reporter standing a few feet away. He lowered the camera and gave us a grin. "If you absolutely insist, then I'll hand it over. The boss has warned all of us that he'd rather keep you happy than have a scoop. But I hope you'll at least have the film developed -- the three of you together are picture perfect."  
  
"Let him have it," Amee whispered to me. "Publicity can't be a bad thing right now, can it?"  
  
I thought it over, looking at Trowa for his opinion. He only shrugged. "I think she's right."  
  
"Hm. Alright." I turned to the reporter, giving him a stern frown. "On one condition."  
  
"Name it."  
  
"I want the original."  
  
He blinked then laughed. "Done!"  
  
Trowa shifted Amee more comfortably in his arms, then reached down and tangled a hand with mine. "Chinese Garden?"  
  
"You read my mind," I responded happily.   
  
"Trowa?" Amee frowned a little and put her finger against Trowa's neck. "How did you get this bruise on your neck?"  
  
Trowa and I both went beet red.   
  
"It's a weird place to have a bruise," she continued with a frown. "Does it hurt?"  
  
"Not a bit," Trowa assured her in a slightly choked voice.   
  
That damn reporter nearly laughed his head off as I quickly towed Trowa outside, doing my best to distract Amee away from that hickey.   
  
Why does she always notice things that are sure to embarrass me?


	7. Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> by Honor A. De'Mandoren

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note from Dacia, the archivist: this work was originally archived at [A Little Piece of Gundam Wing](https://fanlore.org/wiki/A_Little_Piece_Of_Gundam_Wing), which closed in 2017. To preserve the archive, I began manually importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project after July 2017. I e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact me using the e-mail address on [a little piece of gundam wing collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/alittlepieceofgundamwing/profile).

_[ Three Months Later ]_  
  
When Amee walked into the living room I was immediately suspicious. For one thing, she was supposed to be upstairs doing homework (and thereby giving certain adults some snuggle time.) For another, she was wearing The Smile. The Smile meant trouble, and has since she was four months old.   
  
The last thing was the most important -- the little wrapped box in her hands.   
  
With great ceremony she came forward and set it in Trowa's hand. Then she stepped back, smiling expectantly.   
  
He gave me a glance (I had no clue what she was up to) then looked at the box. "There's nothing lethal in this is there?"  
  
"Nope," Amee assured him brightly.   
  
Giving her another glance askance, he shifted me so that he could have both arms free and opened it. I saw his eyes go wide and his mouth worked a little.   
  
"What?" I demanded.   
  
In answer he turned the box upside down, dumping something out onto his palm.   
  
A key.  
  
I instantly recognized that key. Aw crap.  
  
"It's the key to the house," Amee unnecessarily explained. "Quatre's been too afraid to give it to you, so I decided it was up to me. Do you need help moving?"  
  
As tempting as it was to just curl up in a ball and die of embarrassment, it would send all the wrong signals to Trowa so that option wasn't available to me. I glared at her instead. "Amee... "  
  
"Don't growl at me. That key has been sitting on your dresser for _three weeks_. If I hadn't done something, it might have stayed there until you were both old and grey!"  
  
I upped the glare.   
  
"Fine," she sighed. "I know when I'm not wanted." She stuck her tongue out at me before leaving the room. The door might have closed just a _tad_ too hard behind her.   
  
The silence left in her wake was rather... strained. I cleared my throat a little and peeked up at Trowa. He was watching me thoughtfully, frown tugging at his mouth. "Have you really been hesitating over this?"  
  
Confession time. "I... want you to move in. I just wasn't sure how you'd feel about it."  
  
"... "   
  
Between one heart beat and the next he pinned me onto the couch and kissed me aggressively. After a stunned moment (surely this means he likes the idea? Maybe?) I responded just as fully. When he finally released me a small eternity later, we were both panting. "Trowa?"  
  
"The only thing I hated about our relationship was when I had to go home, and you're wondering about asking me to stay?"   
  
You know, put it that way, and all my insecurities sound really stupid. "So... do you need help moving in?"  
  
"I'm not going to turn any help down," Trowa assured me as he closed in for another kiss.   
  
Judging from _this_ kiss... he definitely likes the idea.   
  
OWARI


End file.
